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