Tekstovi: Napalm Death. Noise For Music's Sake. Walls of Confinement.

Before my eyes I see a wall
Twelve thousand miles high
And the same amount wide

Within that wall are faces of people
To whom I once could relate

Now communicating seems hard
When there's an ego barrier to break through

Opinions of self opinion cloud a new horizon
The vision a mere illusion

Biased in conclusion, trapped in seclusion
To the outside, exclusion

When an attitude is so biased
What can you expect to change?

Banging your head
But the wall's not moving
It's enclosing

Burning so much energy
Enthusiasm burning
Is change the real obsession?

Or with a sense of pretension
Do you merely strive
For credible attention [unverified]