the crop is ripe

number and numbered
numbered into numbing
feel no life, no spark
to move me from the dark
no one for me to help
no one to save from hell
nothing expands my horizons
nothing makes me rise
above all this lies
we sank our minds
no tears left to drop
for the ones outside the crop


the crop is ripe now
the milk has soured
on your feet
no sleeping now
kill them now
all them fucking cannibals


arquivo 1999