Letras: Twelve Tribes. Backburner.

Praise the new drug! Your routine is the latest trend and you're wearing your enslavement like a prescrition fashion statement. HALLELUJAH! Your progress has been projected to crash into this glass ceiling and burn when this process fits you it will possess you. To reinvent the induvidualist 'cause we are the living dead. Dreams fall apart into pieces before you know it, you've lost them. The dream has been long fogotten. The dream is dead you've reached a new low. When this process fits you to reinvent the individualist 'cause we are the living dead who fear not of man or god. Raise yourself up from the dead so far you've been useless dreams fall apart dreams fall apart dreams fall apart dreams fall apart reinvent.