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Regurgitated Lullaby For The Born Dead

de Beneath The Massacre

Prowling along the edge of misery. Suffocating on hope of
better days. Questioning minds fed with the myth of opportunity. Born-dead Death at birth. Unwanted Still essential. Exploited As they want. Born-dead But shall rise. Destiny chosen by fortunate ones, wounded for life. Can't become a master when you're born a slave. Death for those who will speak loud. Slavery for the shut mouths. Mortification for majority so that masters keep sleeping in their castles built of gold. A child's dream, nothing but dreams, will soon start to burn and turn to ashes. The production equation doesn't bring wealth for every one, a thing to benefit the fortunate onesempowered ones. Awake the born dead.

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