Written On The Bourgeois Body

Shut off not to happy not to sad

State of come in drug wonderland

No existence no culture no game

Advertised by failure an by shame

Infringed and death struck by freedom rules set

And not even a free market can change that

The lack of life that this economy brings

Turns everything into things

A blind nostalgia for some good old days

Corrupt the passion and control the space

Blame the victim so that we can get away

With a class system that turned everyone into slaves

People here are hardly breathing

Everybody seem to have lost their head

I don’t know about you baby

But it feels like I’m living amongst the dead

Shut off not to happy not to sad

State of come in drug wonderland

No existence no culture no game

Advertised by failure an by shame

People here are hardly breathing

Everybody seem to have lost their head

I don’t know about you baby

But it feels like I’m living amongst the dead

Written on the bourgeois body