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Everything i touch turns to stone
There is no place for me
No hope, no home
I amalone wolf wanderingwithout a pack
I am a sickman drowning, a human wreck
This world is skinning me clean to the bone
There is no peace for me
No hope, no home
We are born like this
Into this
As Mrs. Death laughs
As the sun is masked
The heart is blackened
The fingers reach for the throat
The gun The knife The bomb
The fingers reach toward an unresponsive god
The heart is blackened
The fingers reach for the throat
The fingers reach for the bottle, the pill, the powder!
We are born like this, into this
Sorrowful deadliness
This is it: our doom
Sorrowful deadliness
The end of this society
Will be a stunning sight
The sun will not be seen
And it will always be night
And there will be the most beautiful silence never heard
Born out of that
We are born into this
Walking and living through this
Fooled by this, used by this
Pissed on by this
Made crazy and sick by this
Made violent
Made inhuman by this
Born into this
Dying because of this
