Angry! Angry! Angry!
Offsprings of people and market forces!
Out and featching from the death Street
Here life is money and death a thief…
Scream with joy, you swim in blood
Of many a tender soul
That couldn’t take it anymore…
Empty eyes and mirthless smiles
Quite simply in massacres you deal
Her soft erotic touch you feel…
!I am not a sleepwalker!
Out of these lies I choose my share
Ha! Fuckers! I just ain’t here!
You blood curdling screams of pain
To which you turn a deaf ear
You sufferers of fatal joy
I the filthy one can hear!
Story Of The Footloose 
Economic is shrewd