Prod

Prod

Emotions inside us, troubling.
The hatred inside us, escalating.
The sickness inside us, keeps you weak.
The masses inside of us suffering, they are bleeding.
The calling inside us, sick with greed.
The voices calling to us, deafening we're not listening.
Cannot receive the obvious,
Line up cattle and cut the neck,
Swat at the flies omit disgust.
The leaders inside us, posturing.
The pollution inside of us, suffocating me.
The science inside us, menacing.
The will that's inside of us, its dying end is coming.
Cannot receive the obvious,
Line up cattle and cut the neck,
Drain us of life and cleanse the mess.
cleanse the mess...cleanse the mess...
cleanse the mess...cleanse the mess.
Wash me off inside, wash me off inside
We're killing ourselves, we're killing ourselves,
we're killing ourselves, killers.
Goddamn we fucked up the circumstance,
Too late to save us from ourselves,
Callous minds against trust and confidence,
Too late to give a damn, now.
Too late too save us from ourselves, too late to make it all go away,
Too late to beg pardons from the mother, too late to give a damn.
Its too late to save us from ourselves,
Its too late to make it all go away,
Too late to beg pardons from the mother
Its too late to give a damn now we'll sit and wait
wait...wait....
Wait for the coming, of the end
Wait for the coming, the killing, the ending, the plight of man
Deserving, no mercy expelling by god's hand,
It's okay the ending it's over, no more pain.
No more pain...No more pain...
Emotion the hatred, the sickness, the calling.
Cannot receive the obvious,
Line up cattle and cut the neck,
Swat at the flies omit disgust