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letra de the chain - denominate

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we have bled, we have slaved
yet a labor fruitless it gave
a once fertile mother deprived of essence
a veritable garden of eden
now a husk, ripe for discardment

billions of futures spent
to feed the privileged few
but the tyrants force no growth
with our blood upon the sands

we shall build a craft for our escape
forge a salvation for our race
for down here we have nothing lеft
only empty sp-ce for an escapе
escape!

to breathe life to their accomplishment
they manned the vessel with knowledge
and the souls to grant vitality
to the cold intergalactic metal beast

while few oppose the restless craft
forced by a demand
a final master plan
in eminent need for a surrogate
we build the ark to outlive
the black tide of future
a future…
cold…
we shall build a craft for our escape
forge a salvation for our race
for down here we have nothing left
only empty promises of an escape
there is a fatal flaw in this system
uncontrolled by the composers
the saboteur hides among our ranks!
hidden among our ranks…

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