Plague Deadly plague of this age We all bear it Now, between orders of apathy The Chosen few dare to cross the line Pain, faith in our eyes Pain, flounder or die Pain, we must survive Pain, crossed by the skies Apt, rough and ready to defy It all comes down to this Grind your teeth, blast through the barricades Nothing to lose − a deceitful thought Pain, faith in our eyes Pain, flounder or die Pain, we must survive Pain, crossed by the skies Captivity, anguish inconceivable No thrilling finale, no Mustapha Mond Pain, faith in our eyes Pain, flounder or die Pain, w'll not survive Pain, crossed by the skies