Lockdown

We're falling out

Decaying ranks and pranks

Against my flesh

Death's finished ripping and hell has broken loose

Decay's on every corner, war is on the tube

A generation of dropouts is empty handed and discontent

The bastard sons of the revolution: what you see is what you get

Death's finished ripping and hell is broken loose

Decay's on every corner, war is on the tube

It's so ironic, the weak will follow the blind

And rats will race while the master's away

Rise to your feet, come line your street

For the path of the pale horse leads not astray

I wrote a song I hoped the world would hate as much as I hate myself today

But I'm still screaming at the top of my lungs so you can hear me... 

Kill the snakes