Woorden: At The Gates. Nausea.

Release me from your world of lies
I cannot bear this pain
Degenerate machinery
The monster we create

Nausea, oh sweet nausea

Genetic bar code hell
Mental genocide
Repulsive human shells
Choke on the fruits of out life

Cold stare, starving eyes
Blinded, tired lives
Release me from this pain
Unknown to man