Word of the Master, Blood of the Slave

Living in a plane of misery In which despite you work it goes to hell Blinded masses contempt with bread Bread of other taken away Can't break this cycle of fear Fear imposed by the lords Lords of a realm with no serfs Just simple men turned into slaves Early grave working until you are death Is the word of the master Your bones are dust life has withered away Is the blood of the slave Control and domain even today Society seems to be dying out To resist is to question words Words of cowards, fools and traitors of men Can't break this cycle of fear Fear imposed by the lords Lords of a realm with no serfs Just simple men turned into slaves Early grave working untill you are death Is the word of the master Your bones are dust life has withered away Is the blood of the slave