Get out of my fuckin' sight

An artist wrote that he could die right then
With no regrets

And with no sadness
We are all covered in

Fake blood
Bleeding with no pain　satisfying with the ornament
Which never shine
Which never fight for fuckin' peace

Fuck the everything around　you
We are all slippin' away

With unknown sacrifices

Kids are smiling, crying, denying and dying
Arguing, to demand happiness
　　　　　　
Contradiction
But, hey that's the most of us love to fuck…
The ornament, that's what we shoud get rid off

Now hear the scream of strangers
Know the real meaning of the lives and death

Crying in vain
An artist said that he could die then

How about you fuckin' maniacs?

(Letra by Lara =D)