Paroles: Holy Mountain. Entrails. Slaves.

We know not love
nor compassion
but endless cycles of distraction
the banality and misery,
a consequence
of the battle waged for subsistence
Brought low by crushing debt
the price we pay to ease the pain
as we fight to make it through the days
our teeth that rot for fear of bills we cannot pay
When every day is hell in our lives
a hell of television
and malnutrition
a hell mired in the most frivolous excess
so stupid
we find solace in the shallow satisfaction
of material goods
The opiate that is consumption
to blanket the emptiness that is our lives
I'd rather be dead
than live this half life
this half life of debt and detriment
this fifty year obligation
chasing the promised rewards
of hard work
and getting nowhere
always feeding the wealth
of someone else
always breaking under the mass
of monthly payments
facing the thinning of choices
and the cold demands of necessity
We work and survive
but never really live
We break our bodies and
sell off our best years
to look forward to retiring with
our savings robbed and feeding the rich
hobbled by our creaking limbs and worn out joints
the maintenance of our aging bodies
priced outside our means