The ancient voodoo has only just begun.
Might the fear of our words, and the fire that we light
Cause them to tremble and die of infinite fright.
Possessed are those who no longer dwell
In the same exact position you and I held.
We were those who'd survive
Taking down the weak so this stanza would remain
Alive
Progress is the packaging, and human rights screams
The Press
The rotting hearts, and lungs inside never did digress
Might the maggots and the roaches feast upon
Our most vital organs
Standing still while you do all the rest.
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