| Song | Qualms Of Reality |
| Artist | Meshuggah |
| Album | Contradictions Collapse |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Haake, Kidman, Thordendal | |
| Redundant cruelty | |
| Children are shoveled into enclosed solitude | |
| In lack of value cause by minor defects | |
| Each one an unsuitability outside the publics field of vision | |
| Left to die on a bed of concrete | |
| While the rich swallows ostentation | |
| Distorted minds screaming for consolation | |
| The vanity of convenience rules the world | |
| Locked up, who cares about rights | |
| So what if the world's a bit rude | |
| The prosperous, pay to keep it concealed | |
| Leaving problems untouched because of fear | |
| Abandoned lives | |
| Hundreds in a room, staring with empty swollen eyes | |
| Mutilated possibilities | |
| Enslaved by insanity | |
| The belligerent arrogance of the leaders | |
| Strangles the subjected right to a childhood of safety | |
| Nightmares but for real for ever engraved | |
| In the minds of lost infancies | |
| Shut outFrom this dying world of calumny | |
| Infanticide | |
| A thousand souls a day flows away with the breeze | |
| Living corpses, breathing lungs filled with disease | |
| Underdeveloped twisted thoughts, trying to understand | |
| Unfairly secluded by the prevailing injustices | |
| That pushes this mentally ill world over the edge of acceptance | |
| Locked up, who cares about rights | |
| So what if the world's a bit rude | |
| The prosperous, pay to keep it concealed | |
| Leaving problems untouched because of fear | |
| Death inside, without reach-their freedom | |
| Bound to feel, within illness floating | |
| Souls in penury, soon to fade out-aggravation in charge | |
| Bemoan oppression, extensive carnage behind walls of uncertainty | |
| We'll realize as the floods of insight come down |
| zuo qu : Haake, Kidman, Thordendal | |
| Redundant cruelty | |
| Children are shoveled into enclosed solitude | |
| In lack of value cause by minor defects | |
| Each one an unsuitability outside the publics field of vision | |
| Left to die on a bed of concrete | |
| While the rich swallows ostentation | |
| Distorted minds screaming for consolation | |
| The vanity of convenience rules the world | |
| Locked up, who cares about rights | |
| So what if the world' s a bit rude | |
| The prosperous, pay to keep it concealed | |
| Leaving problems untouched because of fear | |
| Abandoned lives | |
| Hundreds in a room, staring with empty swollen eyes | |
| Mutilated possibilities | |
| Enslaved by insanity | |
| The belligerent arrogance of the leaders | |
| Strangles the subjected right to a childhood of safety | |
| Nightmares but for real for ever engraved | |
| In the minds of lost infancies | |
| Shut outFrom this dying world of calumny | |
| Infanticide | |
| A thousand souls a day flows away with the breeze | |
| Living corpses, breathing lungs filled with disease | |
| Underdeveloped twisted thoughts, trying to understand | |
| Unfairly secluded by the prevailing injustices | |
| That pushes this mentally ill world over the edge of acceptance | |
| Locked up, who cares about rights | |
| So what if the world' s a bit rude | |
| The prosperous, pay to keep it concealed | |
| Leaving problems untouched because of fear | |
| Death inside, without reachtheir freedom | |
| Bound to feel, within illness floating | |
| Souls in penury, soon to fade outaggravation in charge | |
| Bemoan oppression, extensive carnage behind walls of uncertainty | |
| We' ll realize as the floods of insight come down |
| zuò qǔ : Haake, Kidman, Thordendal | |
| Redundant cruelty | |
| Children are shoveled into enclosed solitude | |
| In lack of value cause by minor defects | |
| Each one an unsuitability outside the publics field of vision | |
| Left to die on a bed of concrete | |
| While the rich swallows ostentation | |
| Distorted minds screaming for consolation | |
| The vanity of convenience rules the world | |
| Locked up, who cares about rights | |
| So what if the world' s a bit rude | |
| The prosperous, pay to keep it concealed | |
| Leaving problems untouched because of fear | |
| Abandoned lives | |
| Hundreds in a room, staring with empty swollen eyes | |
| Mutilated possibilities | |
| Enslaved by insanity | |
| The belligerent arrogance of the leaders | |
| Strangles the subjected right to a childhood of safety | |
| Nightmares but for real for ever engraved | |
| In the minds of lost infancies | |
| Shut outFrom this dying world of calumny | |
| Infanticide | |
| A thousand souls a day flows away with the breeze | |
| Living corpses, breathing lungs filled with disease | |
| Underdeveloped twisted thoughts, trying to understand | |
| Unfairly secluded by the prevailing injustices | |
| That pushes this mentally ill world over the edge of acceptance | |
| Locked up, who cares about rights | |
| So what if the world' s a bit rude | |
| The prosperous, pay to keep it concealed | |
| Leaving problems untouched because of fear | |
| Death inside, without reachtheir freedom | |
| Bound to feel, within illness floating | |
| Souls in penury, soon to fade outaggravation in charge | |
| Bemoan oppression, extensive carnage behind walls of uncertainty | |
| We' ll realize as the floods of insight come down |