Create The Infinite
Quelle: Spotify
Listen, and I'll tell you the story of our end
Equate the calculation; salvation's fuckin'
Dead!
Learn the lesson quickly
The enemies of reality bring the sickness
Of cleansing genius
One, two, three, four
Five, six...seven
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
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