[Title: Industries of Death] [Intro] The war machine prospers. The oldest business in our world. Nobody punished for the crime. We manufacture killing tools and sell them to psychopath kings who still believe the one who kills the most is the one who wins. [Verse 1] The king sits safe. The people starve and die. "That's the price of victory," while mothers ask him why. Gold feeds the rich. Factories feed the war. Bodies fill the ditches while they manufacture more. [Pre-Chorus 1] Where are the kings when the battle has begun? Safe behind their concrete walls while everybody else must run. [Chorus 1] Why are we building industries constructed for death? Why are we so eager to steal another breath? Wherever humans gather, we turn the soil red. Industries of death. Factories of pain. Can this little ball in space survive us once again? [Verse 2] Steel becomes a missile. Money becomes flame. Someone signs a contract. Someone gets a grave. They call it defense. They call it supply. But every weapon leaving was designed to make somebody die. [Pre-Chorus 2] No blood on the banker. No mud on the throne. The ones who sell destruction rarely face it on their own. [Chorus 2] Why are we building industries constructed for death? Why are we so eager to steal another breath? Every war creates a market. Every coffin earns a check. Industries of death. Factories of pain. We count the dead as numbers then start the line again. [Bridge] One factory. One contract. One shipment. One lie. One ruler gives the order. A thousand families cry. The machine keeps turning because somebody gets paid. And peace becomes a problem when profit comes from graves. [Last Chorus] Why are we building industries constructed for death? Why does power always put a price upon a breath? The kings will call it glory. The factories call it trade. Industries of death. That is what we made. Can this little ball in space survive what we became? Or will the final human die beside the profit flame? [Outro] The factory stops. The battlefield is still. No buyers left. No kings. No one left to kill. Industries of death. Closed for lack of life.
