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Artiste:
Bitter End (Metal)
Titre:
Profits Of Doom
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These tanks roll off the line And though I make them, they ain't mine I make my life from sales of death I feel no guilt, I'm just here to collect It seems so useless to put up a fight You're on their treadmill and there's no end in sight They've got us trapped in dead end lives No hope or promise, we fight to survive Well, we see them as they see us Perceptions clouded by fear and mistrust We miss the point, we're all the same Each wants the other side to take all the blame Nothing is sacred, nothing is clean Defiled and tainted, completely obscene They speak of truth with lying eyes We've reached the level of those we despise Well, men on top they roll the dice They play their games and we all pay the price And if the truth can set you free We're all enslaved by this hypocrisy! You hear the warnings of pain, doom and strife Can you imagine a fate worse than life? Living this life, you live their lie Live for today for tomorrow we die!