guilty, therefore violent

You‘ll always be mistaken for your past

No one even learns to ever listen when you grow

The quickest way to leave your village is to drink

I sentence you to sweet dreams, only later

I go deep into the bowel of my people

when I sip

and I drink another round for being Swiss

our actions truly never cease to haunt us

everything is plotting to kill me

and every time I try to speak

my voice begins to fade

until I barely gauge to get across

what matters

only time can heal a dislocated self

they won’t kill you

they just want your information

and the gentlemen they torture

shouldn’t die at their behest,

even if he dies

he has to go on hoping

and how to base your argument on logic, morals, syntax

when power is the only thing that counts

I’m a doctor, not a cop

and I’m only here to help

and the medicine will help you help us help you

and disorder is a symptom of the cure

the only law that counts is that of knives

only madness can relieve you of depression

you can look at anything for rent

but never own it

the younger generations are convinced

they have been robbed

when it comes to why they can’t afford a home

there will always be complicit correlation

we are born of an age-old oppression

You will have robbed, enslaved and killed

without committing any crime

but you’re the spokesman for a better situation

Why is it that guilt produces violence?

You are always presumed guilty, therefore violent

I press unto my chest until I feel myself no more

How to kill a pig without becoming one yourself