Текст песни Worms of the Senses/Faculties of the Skull

The worms of the senses ponder quickly towards destruction. Winning is not everything but in our elitist competitive society it is all that matters. Rice cakes for the people and caviar for the leaders who built our world around machines, money and matter. We were left out of the plan and our destination is set by the used car dealer or the factory boss. Bored we walk home with our heads hanging and our creativity stolen as an effect of capitalist gain. In a dream state there is nothing more than simple abstraction of the mind from the matter and the belief that work will somehow “macht frei”. The theory that Marx recognised from Feuerbach, and no we, the people, need to see the spectacle that binds us to our “destiny”. Alienation is not commodity, figures, statistics or make believe but very much a real tool of oppression and seclusion. If we can’t take our part then we must not take part. The faculties of the skull are another dimension of that which is sucking us dry. The imperialisation of the third world is dominant even in our taste for soft drinks and afternoon snacks. With dry wits and knuckles dragging the ground co-operations claim that profit is rightfully theirs and that the blood squeezed out of Africa, South America, Burma, The Baltic states and South Asia is nothing but market interest and public craving. Their products are death and they are salesmen of corruption and power abuse. They are the slave dealers of our time. They are the inquisition. They are the machine that must be stopped.