As we shout at the door of the insights
We've found amnesia fields and tears
We've found pain come along, wasted days
We've found dead end roads and oblivion
How this place become a nonsense junk home
Our home built with betrayed complicity
Is that your fancy moral?
Is that your bloody profit?
Pull the reins, you won't stop us
No, you won't
Broken chains, long roads
Low wave, came slow
Bloody Profit
Mientras gritamos a la puerta de las percepciones
Encontramos campos de amnesia y de lágrimas
Encontramos dolor, días desaprovechados
Encontramos calles sin salida y olvido
Como este lugar se ha convertido en el hogar del desperdicio sin sentido
En nuestro hogar hecho de complicidad traicionada
Es esa vuestra moral elegante?
Es ese vuestro beneficio sangriento?
Tirad de las riendas, no nos parareis
No nos parareis
Cadenas rotas, caminos largos
Oleaje bajo, que viene despacio
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