Bottom

The flock is fed, full of Ignorance
They ruminate upon the things they have in life
They're the ones to complain, compare or name
Yet trouble never seems to find them

All will gather round for the spectacle
It's what they live for
And fear is the drug that soothes them
It turns me anti-human

The wolves are baying at the lambs
For all the sheep to gather round
To snuff the cries of fear and hope
With sharpened teeth to dye their coats

They plead for their benevolence
But there is none to be found
They only cower in reverence
For the wolf is slave to none

Once the pastures are grazed to infertility
And the seed no longer sows
When the bravest venture off alone and don't return
Will the weak remain to guide the rest onward

As they form in rank and file
With the pack to guide them from the shadows
They trample forward in blind parade

They march for greener pastures
But the wolves are drawing ever closer
And they only find the cliffs edge

Now all will gather round for the spectacle
It's what they live for
And fear is the drug that soothes them
It turns me anti-human



Credits
Writer(s): Neil Mccathie
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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