Figures come out of the rainy fog
Silhouettes are passing by like running time
Winter's hot and its sun burns my skin
Thousand raindrops the alibi for a poor god
Smells like dry sore, seems that it grows
Constantly changing its shapes, we are but apes
Smells like dry sore, its my contempt for them
My past is black, my present black, their faces suck
When all is black

They will always dry out
Like raisins in the sun
They fester like a sore and run
My foe is just you and your twins
You always skate on thin ice byt never drown
Your indifference has grown
Your days are numbered, you know
Your fear is an expensive whore
Your descendants forlorn

...
My past is black, my present black, their faces suck
When all is black