Miskept my ticket to paradise, pleasure island
Back to the snickers of parasites, weathered tilings
Getting stiff as the paralyzed, never smiling
Were unicorns and fairies thrive, is were my canary dies
Blurry eyes staring into weary skies
Black smog to kill us were we lie
Spiral stairways to climb, it’s very high
Because there’s nowhere to go, hear me cry
Trickles of toil, thriving on tickles of boils
Buildings rising on the ficklest soil
Were the shrivelled dead spoiled, dwelling with curses
Missile heads and oil filling our purses
Holding my handsomeness for ransom of my grown hair
Dancing with a Tantrum, Gloom, Dispair
Sanitation demanding death, till it combs us clear
Salutations of Animus, Oh my dear

Are we on our way?
From here it’s hard to say
Are we rising from our grave?
From here it’s hard to say
Sacrifice the most beautiful as lamb
Our pedestal the crucible of man
Are we on our way?
From here it’s hard to say

Rot of masters of hapless turf
Trot the pastures till the grass is dirt
Greed for plaster, reap the crop for cadavers
Seek rapture. don’t heed the god they’re after
Glory of warriors, jewellery for courtiers
Slaves to rock, grate you to dust that’s shapeless
The hurry of couriers, scurrying worriers
Make you faceless, fear to face death
Drink the seas; sink my teeth in the trees
Everything I feast, whether lepers, kings, or sheep
Severed heads with steal, hearts with disease
Shred apart belief, your wretched depart as deceased
Know malice beyond skull and bone palaces
Dark talisman, dulling to stone your calluses
Into the chalice you’ve bled Mark the herald’s death
My conceiving from Eden to sterile-ness

Are we on our way?
From here it’s hard to say
Are we rising from our grave?
From here it’s hard to say
Sacrifice the most beautiful as lamb
Our pedestal the crucible of man
Are we on our way?
From here it’s hard to say