Lyrics

Stronger sound of industry
Within a face is every father
Born and bred from infancy
To be no more than any other
March in lines of infantry
Like the lambs unto the slaughter
Empty promises for free
Nepotism, mass disorder
Sickness is the fancy fuck
Who gives two shits for all of us
Desiccate the teats they suck with bilious words and choking dust

When will we all be free?
When will we all be free?

Chance is not the same for all
I?d rather rule in hell than serve
Chance is not the same for all
Stand in the pyre and never burn

Stronger sound of industry
Within a face is every father
Born and bred from infancy
To be no more than any other
March in lines of infantry
Like the lambs unto the slaughter
Empty promises for free
Nepotism, mass disorder
Sickness is the fancy fuck
Who gives two shits for all of us
Desiccate the teats they suck with bilious words and choking dust

When will we all be free?
When will we all be free?

Chance is not the same for all
I?d rather rule in hell than serve
Chance is not the same for all
Stand in the pyre and never burn

Empty promises, Empty promises
No consequence, for what you?ve done
To all the lost forsaken sons
With all your lying hollow hearts you never finish what you start

When will we all be free?
When will we all be free?

Chance is not the same for all
I?d rather rule in hell than serve
Chance is not the same for all
Stand in the pyre and never burn

Chance is not the same for all
I?d rather rule in hell than serve
Chance is not the same for all
Stand in the pyre and never burn