Listen and I'll tell you the story of our end

Equate the calculation, salvation's fucking dead

Learn the lesson quickly

The enemies of reality bring the sickness

Of cleansing genius


What are we but men without eyes?

Swimming through the poison of design


Create the infinite and expand the question

Count to number seven

Your day of rest creates infection, your imperfection


What are we but men without eyes?

Swimming through the poison of design


The waves ran as the storm came

The lightning in the distance signaled the coming crushing days

The sky was brooding and beautiful

And the gulls sailed like recycled fragile entities


The waves bled as the storm changed

In the cold embrace of the unknown

Not even blood could bring us warmth


There is no future shock

There is no god

There is no fashionable deliverance


What are we but men without eyes?

Swimming through the poison of design

What are we but men without eyes?

Swimming through the poison of design