Often misjudged are the criminals among us,
Guilty and their sentence is not yet served,
How broken and dead the reigning race would be if we all got what we deserved,
All sentient beings are only those that we dictate,
How can you judge what you licked off your plate?
Giver now has been brutally raped,
Who knows if the future has so good a taste?

Although we know what the future has for us in store,
A consumption society just breaks right through the door,

In blissful ignorance,
The fists of power thrive,
Now look at your hands,
Your command tells who will survive,

Fresh mermaid carcasses wash up on shore,
They're a prize to be won and a cheap thrill - no more,
Paranoid grins on fake colorless smiles,
Fear of the hollow between wrong and right,
Sobriety is no longer an option,
When digging up words from the trench you fall in,

At the top of your game, who cares?
The ones below are too far down.
But we're the ones who kill our neighbors to stay safe and sound,

In blissful ignorance,
The fists of power thrive,
Now look at your hands,
Your command tells who will survive,

Trophy Kill,

We are such great masochists,
Fuck you, fucking hypocrite!
We are such great masochists.
Fuck you,

Too bad you do what you do to score,
True, that you knew what you know, before.

In blissful ignorance,
The fists of power thrive,
Now look at your hands,
Your command tells who will survive.




Lyrics submitted by xxx_Rotten, edited by Metalogic

Trophy Kill song meanings
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