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