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It could be true

but the lies told before were forsaken

Too much hands for too less brains

Exploring the information

Bad behavior, unknown sickness

Causing trouble, losing control

“The poor deserve to die”, they say

“We can sell your rights”

Sanity decided

To leave us and go

Can’t control the panic

That stills keeping on

Mortal symptoms, thousand steps from people who have lost control

The end is unorganized, and so called: Hysteria!

Throught the barriers of fear

Guided by illusion ahead

Our choice for freedom is fighting to death

Messy nightmare

No one to care

We are all dead

Going downstairs

Mortal symptons, thousand steps from people who have lost control

The end is unorganized, and so called...

Past this all nothing will last for those who’s gonna read our gravestone

They will think that we were wrapped by the mass hysteria

Children left behind

No god can save us now

There’s blood on holy hands

Uncertain destiny

Oppressed by cruel dees

Victims of progress

Mass Hysteria!