The Loser

Band : BURNING POINT OF SPIRIT

Album : For The Blood Of Death Classics

Song : 10's (Pantera Cover)

Guitarist/bass/drums/voices : Fabio DINIZ PINTO

Compositor : Pantera

BURNING POINT OF SPIRIT - Copyright © 2014 - All rights reserved

Secret Track - 10's (Pantera Cover)

Bloodlines - Dethklok (Instrumental)

The Curse Within - Eternity.m4a

Thrash metal, aggressive guitar riffs, pounding double-bass drums, raw intensity, high-speed

Rage

Lupa's Howl

You Made One

Secrets Unlocked

"Are you feeling sad, broken, or simply inconvenient?
Try our patented little lie..."
 ...
Side effects include:
Addiction, sedation, soul death, smile imitation.

Here, take this pill - it fixes your “mood.”
Don't ask questions, just swallow the truth.
Feel a little dead inside? That’s normal now.
Just keep showing teeth - we love that smile.

Prescribe the fog, then blame the haze,
Dull the fire, then call it grace.
You’re not healing - you’re sedated clean,
A puppet pulled by dopamine machines.

“Better” looks good in a pillbox case.
Numb is the new holy place.
They don’t want you whole, just quiet and tamed -
Mental health… now trademarked and named.

Pretty pills, plastic smiles -
Wrap the pain in corporate style.
One-size-fits-all for your fucked-up head,
Just smile wide while you wish you were dead.

White coats, fake hope -
Sell the silence, dose by dose.
You're not cured - you're controlled.
Mental health, bought and sold.

Welcome to the clinic, where the pain’s on lease,
Sign your name, now you’re owned by peace.
You ain’t a person - you’re a stat, a case.
Treat the symptom, erase the face.

No therapy, just therapy ads,
"Talk to your doc!" while you're going mad.
They label you fast so they can med you slow,
Then gaslight your soul while your feelings go.

I don’t need another pill,
I need to scream.
I need someone who hears the silence -
And doesn't drug the dream.

Pretty pills, plastic smiles -
Line us up in sterile aisles.
Hearts on hold, minds on mute,
They treat the pain, then steal the root.

Branded grief, bottled tears,
Patented trauma, sold for years.
I’m not healing in your file.
I’m not a number.
I’m not your style.

This ain’t medicine -
It’s a muzzle.
This ain’t balance -
It’s a fucking puzzle.
I don’t want numb -
I want truth.
But you sell comfort
Like a fucking noose.

Smiling… but screaming.
Stable… but dreaming.
Alive… but where?

Pretty Pills & Plastic Smiles

Paramore

Se oye en la noche un llanto desgarrador
 
Armoniosa tonada, frío aterrador
 
I
 
Voy en busca de un viejo clan
 
Donde pueda respuesta encontrar.
 
Tu voz, en mi interior.
 
Haz dejado en mi angustia y horror,
 
Ya la muerte vendrá,
 
Es eterna ahora la noche. No!
 
Coro
 
Ecos de sangre en mi
 
Y aún siento que volverás.
 
Ecos de sangre en mi
 
En mis sueños siempre estarás
 
II
 
Entre sombras te veo pasar,
 
Es mi mente o es realidad,
 
Infierno es este ardor.
 
Los conjuros que invocan tu amor
 
Se escapan de mí,
 
En los bosques y tumbas te busco y no estás.

Rage

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