Текст песни: Prema. Pebble. Conditioned/Classified.

Thoughts, we have none. Frustration, theories none held up. Things
said so ignorantly. Close your eyes don't question lies. Follow along
or get run over. If you're not like them, you're not right then, wrong!
Facts are lies, conditioned minds. Moderate, compromise, not if it's
what we have, not if it's what we've got, not if it can be passed. I
won't take it in, the wind blows. I won't fall down like all of you. I
want restriction from all this condition. What's right, what's wrong is
fed to our minds. We don't know what we don't comprehend. I want
restriction from all this condition. I am consumed into something that
I don't even know and I have to fit into what is one thing and what's
another. Don't go outside, what I'm classified to be. By my posessions,
I'm consumed eternally. By my temporary covering, everyone is
suffering