This closed glass
And the grid in the gate
Supposed security
But they aren't protection.
And when the chaos come,
No wall will guard you
Of you, of you, of you.
Imperfect prototype
So full of grudge
It's easy to put a defect
Just give it a power.
And when the chaos come
No wall will guard you
Of you, of you, of you, of you, of you, of you, of you.
They become prisoners
Of the possessions around
Looking between the grids
What life could be.
And when the chaos come
No wall will guard you
Of you, of you, of you, of you, of you, of you, of you...
And it's with the open hand
That it has even more
The usury that moves you
It'll only pull you back
And it's with the open hand
That it has even more
The usury that moves you
It'll only pull you back.