Nine Eleven Panem Et Circensens lyrics

Live from the arena, thirty people listening,
It’s the open season to go hunting crown of thorn and pine needles.
Shining under local headquarters neons,
The emblems of a city of belts boarding the battlefields of ambitions
Come to grip with each other.
The world stops turning, taking its time beholding the “artist”
Putting on air and the principles of transfer of myth of long ago.
The nauseous broken record praising the glory of yesterday

Of which they’re only the witnesses: a chocolate medal for every dreamt victory.
The play is now performed at the counter or in front of the same shared plate...
We won’t die of hunger anymore, we just die of boredom.
So I see that your close enemies must be cherished if you want your quest to have meaning!