原文歌词
EN暂时没有翻译，当前显示原文歌词。
Blood-red fear dripping from the screened out cutting
Transmitted suffering crying out for recognition
Your nutrition's a lie, the truth you swallow
What is it made of, the quasi-empiric opinion?
Another sorrow of man turned into faction
Drama pain in a limpid reality
The compact death is a polished fact!
