Icon Of A Dead World

White negroes, do you remember choosing the path of your life?
Was the call, there, simply in the air
Or did you follow some unseen power?
Seeking a confession while moving along
This ever-ending road called life
As gift of past generations:
Dismantled nations - false horizons - fallen victories

Crushed by madness
You do not really control your life
There are no great men
What you see is what you get
No hidden meanings

Icon of a lost world
Seeking your confession
Darkness of the heart
And no heavenly connections
A lost icon of a dead world
Psychopathic madness
You destroyed the world of your sons

We're all dying and we will be fucking dead for a long time
A speech will not change the world
For those born in times when to fight is to lose
Crushed by madness
They do not really control
They are not great men
But they will talk until they’ve got disciples
Now what you see is what you get
And you cannot get away from here
No there's no hidden heaven
There's no hidden meaning
There's no other place and nowhere else to go

Seeking a confession while moving along
This ever-ending road called life
As gift of past generations:
Dismantled nations and the portrait of a dead world

They were icons of doom