Woorden: Filth Of Mankind. The Final Chapter. Everyday Hell (Piekle Codziennosci).

Pain... Pain of existence...
Your veins are bleeding, innards ripped out
You sell your life for their table scraps
Fed with lies, you live an illusion
Believing that you'll one day make it to the top

You kill yourself to live...
You sell your soul for a piece of bread
You kill your soul
Thinking only how to survive

Every day, again another 8 hours of death
The vicious cycle of maddening labor
You toil for a bunch of freeloaders
Who love to put you down

You kill yourself to live...
You sell your soul for a piece of bread
You kill your soul
Rotting in an everyday Hell.

Imagination buried in everyday routine
Day after day goes by as if they never happened
Chained to financial dependence
Robbed of youth, self - respect, freedom