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Right hand raisedThe left plants stickersPicking out the deviantA choice of colours, inclinationsFactions that see only redHe wants them deadHe kills them in his mirror when it's darkAnd when he thinks that no one is lookingHe spreads the spraypaint and leaves his markSwastikas shout out from wallsThey're tattooed on a million fistsClenched together, safe in numbersWaving from the precipiceFodder! Plod on down your icy pathA cannon is waiting for the fodderEnlightenment comes with a blast.A bang. A bangabangabang...Another placeA different storyFingers play with stale cigarsBusiness creeks, the warehouse leaksThe chairman sold his daughter's carSongtexteHe's reading charts and sharpening knivesFor cutting when the time seems rightFor him alone. No pause for mercy if the victim's out of sightEquality is a word for cranksTo shout out as the batons swingIt's beautiful in theoryHe knows it's not for himHe's got his fodder!In higher places, clocks chimeFor the meeting of the lordsThey stay discreet as guilty secretsCause no shame behind closed doorsA portion for the megabombA portion for the queenCan't forget the army or the law'cos they have to keep the cities cleanAnd sure they know they'll get their wayAs protests echo from the streets (The blood is thicker from the streets)His hired guns and sheets of armorGives them shelter through the heat! The fodder...But there are other bullets, other wallsWhere justice cries in shiny redWhere reason dies and passion burnsPersuasion's just a hole in the headPurges after midnightThere's no discretion in the massA volleyA silence as they cover up the messDon't kid yourselfYou're civilized, it could happen anywhereIn choking cities, steaming junglesMaybe even here. Aus Songtexte Mania