Feral children,
born of desperation's seed,
raised on a post-industrial creed,
violence is their language, love a foreign tongue,
but deep inside they yearn to be held and sung,
In abandoned and lots and crumbling halls,
their laughing echoes, a generation lost in pain,
left behind, unwanted progeny of a nation blind,
now feral youths run the factories day and night,
they forge their path through steel and rusted walls,
Feral children, born of desperations seed, raised on a post-industrial creed,
violence is their language, love a foreign tongue,
but deep inside they yearn to be held and sung.
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|X|X|X|
- - - -
|X|X|X|
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_.-^-._
/       \\
|_______|
        
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 /   \\
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