Barcode - Front Line Assembly

This mark of impalement burned

On my skin is immoral

The shackle of frailness confines one

To crawl with one self

A smell of corrosion force

Fully clashes within

Sensorial conditions

Human emmisions grown thin

It’s burned on your head

It’s burned on your skin

It’s burned on your eyes

A barcode never lies

A symbol of power

As dark as the night

No measure for intolerance

We’ll keep up the fight

This structure of violence

Now becomes.

Silence is hurtful

Beginning our obsession we now

Learned our lesson.

Despite

A world of dominance

Will now pervade

Clouds cover the sun

The light begins to fade

This toilsome aggression is

Now getting harder to fight

Solutions of leverage

Internal combustion is tight