Design

It’s a simple disease yet complex with complicity

It’s the dying mans voice when no words can be spun

It’s the wrench in the cogs of the smoking machinery

That plows through family and friends just for fun

When you can’t stop a world that’s grown ill with insanity

And there’re no longer words to express your distrust

And this fucking disaster shows no rhythm or rhyme

That we’ve ruined it all disassembled

From our own

Design, design, designed to distrust

Design, design, designed to be lost

Designed, in blood we all sign

Grave obligations to commit unforgivable

We need 600 bodies to complete this new graveyard

And 10,000 gallons just to drown all our rage

A dozen more names just to finish the headstones

Some bravery to get us all out of this cage

The bodies stack high in this tomb of society

And the blade in my skin always writes the best lines

A stony dead silence seems to cut through the scenery

It’s the malignant cancer we’ve created through our own

Design, design, designed to distrust

Design, design, designed to be lost

Designed, in blood we all sign

Grave obligations to commit unforgivable crimes

Crimes, crimes of a dubious nature

Crimes just for quick-cash or more social stature

Crimes, against our own world in time

Wicked mistakes makes us victims of our own

Design, design, designed to distrust

Design, design, designed to be lost

Designed

Design, design, designed to distrust

Design, design, designed to be lost

Designed