Faceless Things:

Migrating from countryside to cities
Economic schemes that can’t avoid
Cultivation of fear to mute the spirit
Cities where human herds can be controlled

Don’t let me touch the ground
Don’t let me feel the earth
Don’t let me feed myself
Mould me into a slave

Broken chains I hear in the air
Lies are growing too high
The structure is about to collapse
The plan is coming to it’s end

Global corporations faceless thieves
Feeding us with shit to make us weaker 
Soil ruined with genetically modified seeds
Despoiling nature of its riches

Creators of one dream we’re all forced to reach
It demands every drop of sweat and energy
No time to know ourselves, no will to think
Reward only for frivolity

Don’t let me touch the ground
Don’t let me know the earth
Don’t let me see myself
Mould me into a slave