Indignation کے بول

Whatever you say now reverberates Whatever you don't say speaks for itself The gesture of the hands shielding the head Has nonetheless remained the same There's nothing more debauched than thinking Nothing's sacred for those who think It is all behind them now Every beginning is only sequence This is not a dirge; it's indignation We ill-fated mad won't fade away Eyes don't stop shedding tears The body writhes, falling to the ground Presence of death Intoxicating mock despair in every mid-sentence We're made of stone We are homeless With chains of mind Life is punishment Shameful dream This will never end Instinct can't err It's a good thing we have stairs to run down It's a good thing we have gates to open