1.They Come In Shoals
The city's sky blows blackened doom
Onto the little life that's left
You're still glued to a screen
While the real world turns to dust
Mind control devices
Installed for education
Are focussing your energy
On the furthest thing from reality
They keep you deaf
To the sound of revolution
They avert your eyes
From the sceptics decapitation
Seek no solace digging for roots
There is no interpretation for truth
No solace for truth
Omnipresent secrecy
Under the flag of democracy
There's feds at the door
Oh it's just fed ex
Thought I heard walkie talkies
Must've been them redneck neighbours of mine
They fuckin with they cb
And we in the spot watchin c.o.p.s. on tv
You have been sold
You always bought what you've been told
You have been sold
2.No High Five For C. Oward
Is your light shining bright？
Is everybody getting blind？
Received some attention today？
Have you clapped your own back？
Why do I still have to write
Songs about gaining cheap respect？
Words you believe and spit out
Words i don't give a shit about
Make you a liar, a dreamer,
A thieve and a cheater
It's time to call it a day
At hundred days overdue
My hands won't abide
Any longer to you
Investments on a dead market
Commitment on dead meat
Passion on a dead piece of shit
Or heart on a dead fucking fiend
That's what I am going to beat down
It's what you won't get next year
No way, to you I won't bow down
3.Briefing Security Werewolves On Red Alert
4.Crooks At Your Door
There is no hope
You're living in a concrete cage
Under black concrete clouds
The concrete paths you walk with pride
You walk them gagged and folded blind
There is no hope - concrete fingers will squash your house
There is no hope - concrete teeth will chew your kind
There is no hope - your fat from wealth
There is no hope - will be ripped out
There is no hope - it will feed well
There is no hope - the starving wretch
I don't want to be
Nailed to a concrete cross
I don't want to obey
A concrete god
There is a crook at your door
With every second ring
They want to sell you the world
And though it's tempting to give in
Don't let them in
The concrete paths you walk with pride
You walk them gagged and folded blind
There is no hope
Your fat from wealth will be ripped out
It will feed well the starving wretch
I don't want to be
Nailed to a concrete cross
I don't want to obey
A concrete god
5.Justice From The Lips Of The Highest Bidder
(Instrumental)
6.Copyriot
It all changes so quickly
You dress away insecurity
And your friends prevent you
From forming identity
What is everyone else doing？
What kind of identity crisis is the most common？
Where the hell are you today？
And who really cares？
7.The Certain Nothing
You can't link me to your life
Can't link me to your goddamn lie
Your made up character
The only person you are fooling is yourself
You fashion posers put me down
We don't have anything in common
Everything you do, everything you say
Means nothing to me
Fans are your merely subjects
And you're the ruling class
Living by a status quo
Which few will disobey
You can't link me to your life
Can't link me to your goddamn lie
Your made up character
Speaking of your so called markets
Trust me one day you will find yourself
Surrounded by dead cities
8.Appropriate Tools Required To Intercept And Obstruct Errorism
You're under surveillance
But they force you to smile
The grin of suppression
Makes the face of regression
Understand what situation you're in
And ask the right questions
You still give up
What will never become
Self-determination
Vs. higher income
Your freedom has a price
And you pay it from the taxes
Which pay their coup d'état
The rise of the establishment
Operations under false flag
Are their power, your retirement
You rather buy things you don't need
From money you don't have
To impress people you don't like
Who keep the job 'inside'
9.What Happens In The District...(Paper Agents)
The new economy curs
They are barking again
Their chants are ringing out
Above the city's rooves
As they cross my way
Looking for a vent
I will bring them down
With my bare hands
This is the oldest brood
Clawing its way through
Armed with brief-cases
Dressed in tuxedo suits
Welcome to the jungle
This is what I've become
Note down my words：
I don't owe shit to anyone!
This is the oldest brood
Clawing its way through
Armed with brief-cases
Dressed in tuxedo suitsretirement
You rather buy things you don't need
From money you don't have
To impress people you don't like
Who keep the job 'inside'
10....Stays In The District (I'm The Black Sheep Of Her Country)
Lazy and convenient she is
The mother of the nation
The mother of creation
She spends more on commercialising a cause
Than she does on feeding her products
Forget about the news
News are her advertisement
Speaking too many cold words chopped her lips
Forget about the news
Speaking too many cold words chopped her lips
11.Scully
It's hard to find the right words
My language is foreign to yours
It seperates us from each other
I just want to believe
But you want to verify
Science never solved our cases
I never asked for anyone's acceptance
Never wanted to be anybody else
Never wanted to be anywhere but here
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