Gorod Hidden Genocide
I try to assert myself, I seek to dominate
The end justifies the means, I will be merciless
I hold the ability to destroy, I have the power to kill
The end justifies the means, I will design some disease
What's a nation, what's a continent?
What's a fellow, what is a people? ...Nothing but livestock
What is ethics, what's morality?
What's altruism, what's humanism? ...Nothing but sterile thoughts
There's no struggle
No resistance
No guerrillas
Just illusions
There's no peace
No negotiation
No mediation
Just a hidden genocide
This underdeveloped continent, deserved only one thing
To die in despicable ways, and leave me its wealth
Imagine a virus, and people degenerating
Over three generations, imagine a virus
Crude physical and mental alterations
Your behavior deteriorating, your instincts more debase
Your eating habits changing, you will fading out
All that makes you human disappearing, you're turning into a pig
Your face's shaping your background
To gorge yourself and laze around, suce are your motivations
Man's caricature, even your pride gets lost
In the gaping bodies of your ripped open brothers
