Letra de 'Filming The Tragedy Silent Rage' de Attika

Take a look around you
At the celluloid newsman's comedy
Obstruction of a world in progress
Dying at the hands of Technology

Will tomorrow's eyes open to see
The thin line of truth and sanity
The dying eyes behind the scenes obscured
By a cardboard world of reality

The media moshes frantically
To deliver what the people will buy
Inter the bones and feed them the meat
They'll swallow it whole with no questions.

The script is in
Race to the scene
Reporting the Agony

Eyewitness,
Camera madness
Filming the Tragedy

Swallow your pride
Make up the time
The theater curtains rise

The audience stares
They're part of the show
A play in morality

Bomb scare, make it aware
There's nothing here to dread
The bombs are red, the armies bled
But your eyes only rattle your head

Terror strikes a chord within
The world is a great madhouse
But rest assure, you need not worry
It has nothing to do with you.

Scandal is in
Fact is a sin
Making a strategy

Eyewitness,
Camera madness
Filming the Tragedy

Swallow your pride
Make up the time
The theater curtains rise

Look past the screen
This is your scene
Watch your own mortality.

The reporters are the producers
Directors have an empty set
There's no acting, no lines to remember
This one's for real

Wrap u the story, this one's a print
Hold the press we're coming in
A cynical layout hiding the truth
Absorbing the absent minded youth

It's a fast world in a fast lane
Live by the minute not by the day
Stick out your arm for another fix
As we tip our hats to the editor's kiss.

The script is in
Race to the scene
Reporting the Agony

Eyewitness,
Camera madness
Filming the Tragedy

Swallow the pride
Make up the time
The theater curtains rise

And the audience stares
It's part of the show
Programming brutality.

When the doors were broken
I locked it from my mind
A cattle drive on society
I dared not speak the plight.

To speak one's mind among us
To burn as heretics
Language of a forgotten age
Now just decadence.

There's no one left to stop the siege
No one to speak up against the spree
I grit my teeth as they take them away
Run for cover now, they're coming for me
Too late for someone to preach the sane.

Ridding the land of their own kind
And replace them with people of steel
To raise a new breed of man
That cowers and caters to wills.

There is no place for the weak
They only slow the plan
And the children of these diseased
Will be trained to work the land.

There's no one left to stop the siege
No one to speak up against the spree
I grit my teeth as they take them away
Run for cover now, they're coming for me
Too late for someone to preach the sane
And no one to raise a hand for me
I held my tongue now they hold my fate.

There's no one left to stop the siege
No one to speak up against the spree
I grit my teeth as they take them away
Run for cover now, they're coming for me
Too late for someone to preach the sane
And no one to make a stand for me
I held my tongue now they hold my fate

Behold my fate.