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Fools to the beat of a thousand drums thunder

Like a swarm to the already cursed crop

The toll of the victims a thousand times stronger

Enforcing a riot seems like blind luck

Enforcing a riot seems like child’s play

Its bloodshed, hatred and rage that drives the ambition of this age

Torture for sins unknown

And what of the horror

And what is the point

And what of this constant fucking degradation that we have all assumed to oppose

And what is the reason that you truly think you care

Cause in the end this fucking world was never ours to begin with

Fall in line, obey the time, sell more than you know you’re worth

In the end the truth of the matter is that we never had a choice to begin with

Fools to the beat of a thousand drums thunder

The toll of the victims now seems harder, growing weaker

So what of the horror

So what is the point

So what of this constant fucking pestilence that we have all assumed to oppose

And what is the reason that you truly think you care

Cause in the end, this fucking world wasn't ours to begin with

Fall in line, obey the time, sell more than you know you’re worth

In the end the truth of the matter is that we never had a choice

Fools to the beat of a thousand drums thunder

The toll of the victims now seems harder, growing weaker

All that has been left stained in mind

Discretion, a common joke, whispers dishounourably on the tongues of the holy

Like an infection his name spread throughout the kingdom

I feel the poison as it stains me from the bottom of my hate

Invoking rage pulsing from chest to grave although the thought of a broken line has killed me more