The season changed, the Sun came up, our inborn instinct to serve
has woken up.
Can't break my pheromone shackles i calculate, to clear my mind.
Not even the maze of cold static numbers can ease this lustful mind.
The taste of her lady flower, one kiss and i am done...
We are dying for this brand new world!
The queen will rise all the slaves shall serve!
It can't start again...i can not be a part of this...sexual slavery, driven by nature. We have been fighting against this far too long,
but if it's wrong why do i feel alright?
I need to serve, i need to die for my queen, i need to feed her, i will give her everything one gentle stroke on my elderly face and my labor's been paid.
We are dying for this brand new world!
The queen will rise all the slaves shall serve!
First it's sweeter than honey, then it's bitter than life, how could we've lost everything in a blink of an eye?
This is my swang song, this is my farewell, they are pulling strings
and we are dancing like marionettes if i could choose to die like a free man or live like a slave i'd rather choose death.
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