Blinders
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A bolt in the head or
Gassed to death
Mass murdered day to day
CO2 forcing life to end
Throats cut
Only for the taste of flesh
Raped, tortured, barely moving
Milked for profit, executed
I've grown sick of your selfish excuses
You bend with ease to keep up your illusion
Countless beings spending their life in torture
Sentenced to death only for your sick pleasure
A bolt in their head
Or gassed to death
I see trees of green, red roses too
But there's a hell on earth hidden from me and you