Distilled essence of nonconformity
Creation process never shall end
Until we are servants of ourselves
Routine...
Distilled essence of nonconformity
Creation process never shall end
Are we standing towards
Global routine?
Piece of salt in eyes
Thunder-sounding words of truth
Stench of unknown
Felt in moments of conscious independence?
Transgression of environment
Against fortune-tellers' reigns
Funeral of heredity
Shall be our descent
Hard to disperse
Consolidated stream of human
Opportunism
Stand aside let if flow
Poison it with sulphur
Let it flow now...
Transgression...
Hordes of fortune-tellers
Reign old servants
Rebooting minds every Sunday
Disconnected minds
They seem to be like one team
But finally one in one
Is all for one
Hard to disperse...
Every time I say they have to die