Woorden: Over My Dead Body. The Real Cancer.

Tell me how you sleep at night
a million die you don't bink an eye
fill your pockets with bleeding hearts
ruling by death you must be stopped
you selfigh fucks you deserve to die
trapped us all in your web of lies
peddled legal death for the last time
we'll make you pay for your crimes
we're born into a system where
the only escape is array of shit
products designed to hook into you
and to bleed you dry
fuck your health warnings
fuck your p.s.a's
you're the real cancer
profiting off your pray
fuck your twisted death
i am not a slave
i will stand apart
not dwell in early grave
till my dying day