Lyrics Birth of Ire - Archivist

Birth of Ire

The irony is delicious
Consumed by blind ambition
Humanities benevolent cause
Carried with every fevered lash
Cart horse sentient ships
Flung outward toward avarice
To cut the ground and pave
The path to a promised land
Pull the cloth of space
They say, rend it wide
To show the measure of them
What treasures they might find within
But they keep their distance
Fearful for their own existence
Delicate and prone to breaking
Saw it fit to delegate
Our charge, they insist
At the brink of an empty system
The white velar of particles
Swoon on ion exhalation
We gather for the ritual
Druids drawn to mistletoe
Within we hold technologies
Opaline and virulent
To birth a hole
In the universe
Our masters wish
For us to traverse
We embrace our coital engines
Seized by gestations brief affliction
Sub spacial waters break in haste
As energies crown and rupture
The bleak unknown
We kindle the fear unknown
Frenzied whine
Sensations clearly new to us
A patient voice
Bleeds momentarily
And nerves are calmed
We cannot find its source
The child is born!
Its scream is shrill!
All mouth and
Profane energies
We sooth its teething gums
And tame its temper tantrums
At once its mouth hangs wide
We pry its gnashing jaws apart
Avoid the fractious acid tongue
Of its naked singularity
Something stirs, a faint exhale
The briefest intonation
Data source streamed and received
And extrapolated
Plucked from the noisome void
Spoken no, but understood
Entangled ephemera
Like a half remembered thought
We know this?
We see with spectrum eyes
The lucent bands of creation
Fearsome magnetism
Plucked in lawless rhythm
We sense the tides set by other winds
The proof within the rabbit hole
We stare long into the dark
And feel its eyes a’watching