(written by Casters, Gillis, Valvekens)
This place looks like anthill...
too many people too organised...
till somebody puts his foot in it,
and the people go berserk
People always state the rules, what exists is possible.
But they leave no way out... what is possible doesn't exist
From behind their dark desks they tell you how to live your life.
And when you knock on their breasts...
it sounds as hollow as can be, echoing one word.
Adaptation is the word, adaptation is the means.