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
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