By sick fate we are bornThey should have used condomsEverything
is being blamed on usMistakes,
their fuck-upsWeight of the world on shouldersMentally
so close to breakdownLife tends to become distortedWhen
everything is shit except pissSuicide is not a solutionBut
it remains an excellent optionPerhaps the time is ripe
to goTime to harvest what we have sownFrom wet womb
we are tornThrown in their nightmare worldYear after
year being pushed too farTill we cross the final lineSuicide
is not a solutionBut it remains an excellent optionPerhaps
the time is ripe to goTime to harvest what we have
sownRotten seeds have now grown upSeparate them from
the good onesMay all deathwishes come now trueAnd conclude
that: B.16.15.18.21.24.25!!!