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ABANDONED FACTORIES OF THE SOUL
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CRUMBLING HALLS OF FORGOTTEN DREAMS
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BROKEN WINDOWS, SHATTERED SOULS
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 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 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.