Primitive Rage

All we know is steel and stone
We're work of the dead, we're work of the bone
Breading ourselves thin, stripping ourselves bare
We turn the screws to beat the care
Bottled up with spite, lying dead in the fight
Exposing our skin to the parasites

The brain rot of the digital age
Leaves our bodies stuck inside a primitive rage

Getting ahead by bowing down
And we fuck our heads when we're feeling down

Getting ahead by bowing down
And we fuck our heads when we're feeling down

The lives are desperate of love
Masked by the noise from the screens
Pretending everything's fine
We save our fears for our dreams

Forcing a fucking reckoning
Forcing a fucking reckoning
Forcing a reckoning

Set us free
Forcing a reckoning