We‘re unaware

Into an imperium with no right vision

Nice clean streets, pretty Houses and trees

Every day’s the same, everything is arranged

We’re part of the game. Nothing has changed

Sweet voices in your head selling you plastic life

Re-runs of sitcoms in this paradise

I am running, running, running

world
watching
until
unaware
trees
tales
sweet
slowly
silence
signs
false
fairy
streets
sitcoms
plastic
vision
illusions
promises
everyone
every
arranged
clean
pretty
bleeding
houses
everything
telling
illusion
imperium
nothing
within
voices
running
right
paradise
changed
reality
selling

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