N.O.X. IV: Night Of Pan

All of these faces

All of these empty suits

All so tenacious

All these self-righteous brutes

Save me, save me

All of these postures

All of them seem the same

None of the people

The post still remains the same

Save me, save me

They could be anyone

All of these faces

Transform and turn into one

Nothing but traces

They could be anyone