We're going to lose this day We're going to lose this day There's nothing left to say We're dying everyday This starts to sound the same Crossing Frontiers, i'm taking part Native customs, you're not allowed To realize your thoughts and plans Thrift wood of society Missing aims, start to ignore Not any hope, a wide-shut door I'm just a simple-minded duplicate But who is the referee in this match? A blowing whistle to replace thoughts? There's nothing left to say I'm dying everyday - Oh, come on, Face the truth, it's your own fault that you can't move! Try not to civilize your short form of ever-lasting resistance Don't get wrong, sometimes it's hard to keep this lane My feet are bleeding, but they will harden soon...in this match!