We've painted our needs and scribbled our dignity,
Brainwashed, imposed doctrines of insatiability.
Forgotten whispers of hope annihilated, in the shadows of skyscraping lies.
Repetitious hits sealed the last fragment of resistance.

We claim that we are free, free ‘til the limits drawn by phobias.

As all humanity we are: Nailed Down, Hammered On.
Oppressed even in our minds, we are: Nailed Down, Hammered On.
Dirty ambitions, propaganda of agony,
Countless wishes lead us to our undesired misery.

On a beau tourner la page, l'écriture perdurera.
L'histoire continue, mais les souvenirs sont toujours là.
Tu peux poignarder mon livre, après tout je ne le relirai pas.
Baigné dans le sang tu le laisseras,
Un jour quelqu’un me comprendra…

If you need an explanation
For all these words that I’ve been screechin’.
Come look at me for a clearer portrait,
I can give you a demonstration of aching.
Just spin your baby skinned back towards me,
Hammer in hand, I’ll help you understand!

Pined to an ideology of a world with no boundaries,
Where quest for liberty stampedes equalitarianism.

We claim that we are free, free ‘til the limits drawn by phobias

(chorus)

La lumière est une lueur d’espoir,
Mais c’est lorsqu’elle se trouve derrière soi,
Et qu’elle ne projette que de l’ombre sur le chemin qui nous devance,
Que tout semble vermine éternelle …

NAILED… HAMMERED… NAILED… HAMMERED…

We've been presented to the world's seventh beauty,
Treated as pharaohs so we don’t recognize it’s a fallacy.
Once I was led to the summit of the highest cliff,
Where I could see the splendorous scenery.
Yet I was thrown over the edge into a sea of melancholy,
Where I consciously knew I would never undergo anew,
What harassing drops of flavor had shown me,
Of life’s impossible magnificence.

Forgotten whispers of hope annihilated, in the shadows of skyscraping lies.
Repetitious hits sealed the last fragment of resistance.

We claim that we are free, free ‘til the limits drawn by phobias.

(chorus)

La lumière est une lueur d’espoir,
Mais c’est lorsqu’elle se trouve derrière soi,
Et qu’elle ne projette que de l’ombre sur le chemin qui nous devance,
Que tout semble vermine éternelle …