A generation raised in darkness Controlled, polluted fed with the truth A truth that blinds their view Their ways and fates decided implanted sorrows kill their needs A common way to happiness, but I never learned to sell myself Poets became silent, While clowns arose and burned the books again No thinkers daring vision grew, Where thieves ran free and crippled human dignity In the noise of unimportance And stupidity the sceptics whispers went unheard Be sure, this storm will not drown my voice Be sure, my hands will sow the seeds of reason Ill never be a minor, Ill never be a happy slave May this cold sever my face And my the pain weaken my fists No inner strife will touch me The only truth is in my heart
unimportance, truth, sceptic, sure, thinker