Read the Risks before

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I feel the thrill of the end of days
Is that what they claim our destiny (or what do you wanna call it?)
Dead empty shell in outer space

I burn inside (talking to) talking to myself again
Ever bleeding sore
Too much hate
Too much fake
Read the risks before

No use to talk they won`t understand
Just like a global clock ticking on and on (and on and one)

No turn of times (talking to) talking to myself again
On TV Screen the daily news stay the same
Dead empty shell read the risks before
Another pointless war
Too much hate
Too much fade
Read the risks before