Sanoja: Annotations Of An Autopsy. Born Dead.

The sound of laughter inside your head
Don't you wish you were born dead
The sound of laughter inside your head
Makes you wish you were born dead
Born dead, you make me fucking sick

No future, no guilt, destined to walk the line of mediocrity
Nothing can become of what is born dead
A society taken in by your wall of smoke
Cloaking your face, a disposable entity
Born with the intent to breathe but never acheiving your goal

The sound of laughter inside your head
Don't you wish you were born dead
The sound of laughter inside your head
Makes you wish you were born dead
Born dead, you make me fucking sick!

The entire human race will acknowledge you as the earth's biggest mistake
Existence is defective by nature, as we lie in our own filth and stagnate

Failure was inevitable

Close your eyes, and pray that you don't wake up
Lay in your own filth, you have no future, no guilt
Destined to walk the line of mediocrity

We, we took your soul, there was no remorse as we dug your grave
You were a cancer and we cut you out
We, we took your soul, there was no remorse as we buried you
And there will be no tears as we spit upon your grave

The sound of laughter inside your head
Don't you wish you were born dead
The sound of laughter inside your head
Makes you wish you were born dead
Born Dead, you make me fucking sick!

(Thanks to Eric D. for these lyrics)