Tekster: Offspring, The. Blackball.

In this world of hate and shallowness

Where enemies become your consolation

And those of us who win the game

Give up their minds

I don't call that winning

Say this doesn't apply to you

But ask yourself first

What have I done to win the game

And just what have I sacrificed



Win the battle or lose the war

I know we played the game before

When people were still real

I don't want this anymore

It's time for me to close the door

There's nothing left to feel



Reflect on all our yesterdays

My own words choke me

Why were they spoken

Regret for things I've said and done

Just can't compare with

Regret for those that I have never tried

So blame this world or blame yourself

It's really all the same

When you are standing on that precipice

From which you just cannot return



Win the battle or lose the war

I know we played the game before

When people were still real

I don't want this anymore

It's time for me to close the door

There's nothing left to feel



In the style of forgotten men

I look to my horizon

I see nothing

While thoughts of and desecration

Sweep through my mind

But only coffins and bones remain

As I look at you

The emptiness behind your eyes

Seals my decision

Can't carry on in a world of jugglers

Where all this thoughtlessness

And bludgeonings your key to success

What kind of tradition to carry on



Blackball - The new disease

Blackball - The new disease

Blackball - Your evil ways have found their way to me

Blackball - The new disease

Blackball - The new disease

Blackball - For a better life in this high tech dog eat dog existence





Win the battle or lose the war

I know we played the game before

When people were still real

I don't want this anymore

It's time for me to close the door

There's nothing left to feel