A constant torment to the senses World of pleasure through rose-colored lenses Indifference to a culture of clones A carbon copy of an idol unknown Off the bridge, you plummet Nausea never makes you learn from it River of gold is just so bitter Bite the barrel, squeeze the trigger Wading in streets of filth Cruelty turned habitual Tunnel vision aimed at your high Collision with the concrete ♪ Choke on your indulgence Poison yourselves in harmony Culture in a downward spiral Will it be real when the cloth you bear is stained with blood and bile?