Crucible от Strega

We’ll scour the ghettos For the trash of the earth Put em on the frontline They won’t be missed Step into my crucible Warm yourself in my crucible Burn and die in my crucible We’ll bribe their grieving families With the fat of the land Spread distorted visions Till they eat from our hand The victims of the system Are the first to be served To propagate that system They’re meat in our mill Cast into the futile battle In the caste system Of feudal lords Crying from the Bottom of the pile In the voice of a number We’re paragons of virtue And you are the same When you die in our turnstile We’ll protect your name