Walking in the streets
All it seems mysteries
Everybody walk suspicious
There are no projects anymore

My steps are hurried
At least I'm not one of then
Their heeds are down
And seems to be controled

The body is cold
The mind doesn't obey
They're all corpses
Corpses of our century

My conclusion is insane
I don't try to contest
They are millions
A lot of people even don't know what