Music: Tim Schallenberg, Lyrics: J. Lubitzki    We're the loosers, We see you're disdain  We're the tools for our own coloured fate  No one really knows our place  Justice, give us your grace! Show your face!    But the war slaves of the lords drive us from land to land  to the garbage canyons, to the eternal damned  And we ride like puppets on our boneless dogs, helpless,  into the ghetto canyons    "Antisocial" that's their only slang  political correct on their stamps  Roast our bodies sharp! Bon appetite!  Swallow our souls to vomit it!    And the forces of the lords drive us from land to land  to the garbage canyons, to the eternal damned  Yes we ride, like puppets on our boneless dogs, helpless,  into the ghetto canyons    Life injurance saves your future plan,  saves your future in a wheel chair gang,  but you laugh about this warning. You wanna drift there where  you want  to the suicide angels, if your fate is turning wrong  Suicide angels, you want never fall down, down from the sky  That's illusion, you can never fall, cause you are living in the  devil's reich