Texty:
Darkest Hour Hidden Hands Of A Sadist Nation

the look of it No people just numbers If you had your way The world would be Just a market a fucking market The meaning is lost when You put a price tag

and die In a day there's nothing Left to say Time will not erase The counting down of the days You finally got What you've been waiting for A handful

Within a mechanical pose And a heart pumping a need for control Forced to fit inside a mold Living to dehumanize is gonna take its toll Take it in And

a sick fascination A culture of violence is what you are feeding Fear is an heirloom And hate is contagious A nation of sadists is what you are breeding

[Instrumental]