We want to pass our genes,
And we want to pass our minds,
We treat children like vessels,
In them we try to copy, ourselves.

But we are not alone,
Poor children, poor kids.
There are some, that want to copy,
Inside her, inside him.

In rows they put them,
And in houses they come,
Beneath doors they smuggle,
Inside minds they rot.

Again and again,
The process begins and it ends,
We put kids on conveyor belts,
And let others be them.