Island Of The Freaks

Island Of The Freaks
A smile now has a price tag on the screen.
A perfect body costs you everything.
Cheap poison on your plate, it cuts you slow.
The laws don't guard the weak, they guard the gold.
Look at these faces — all you see is dread.
Behind the hollow masks, a monster’s head.
Darwin was right: the goal of life is rot.
Everything has a cost, even your ash in a plot.
Do you want me to write a pretty song?
Pop-sweet and numb, just like Michael’s wrong?
You'll shut your brain and tell yourself, "That's it".
'Cause this world isn't it… this world is sick.
Every single word is counterfeit.
The madmen’s speeches are a river of shit.
They kill you with one deal, a silent blow.
That pretty smile just turned you into zero, though.
You think you're living while you're still awake.
But don't believe the lies for your own sake.
In this world you are a larva — parasite.
You're eating yourself alive day and night.
Do you still pray to icons and the cross?
Look at the feast — the devil laughs at loss.
Read Machiavelli, Jung, and taste the void.
Your body still belongs to what the beasts destroyed.
They tamed you with cheap hotdogs, you're a rat.
Your only use is rent, a tax, a format.
Wake up — they’ve taken everything you had.
No soul. Just plugs.
No tears. Just a leak.