| I can’t hear a thing | 
| These waves crash faster | 
| I can’t see a thing | 
| These arms grab for wonder | 
| Enter this widing space | 
| Inside our own small cage | 
| I can’t hear a thing | 
| These waves crash faster | 
| I can’t see a thing | 
| These arms grab for wonder | 
| King Redeem — Queen Serene | 
| Dust drifts by with one last try | 
| Cling’s trapped, glits fold inside | 
| Blurred mind, dry his form from | 
| High, sleep walked past my cornea | 
| Eclipse washed out, unscaped | 
| Search for the formal stage | 
| I slipped past my own mind | 
| Small gift taken from my time | 
| New mouth! | 
| New blind! | 
| New bone! | 
| New life! | 
| Carve this | 
| The spectrum, falls in for heart | 
| Wait, race | 
| Been starring at divinity | 
| Home! | 
| Wrecking with those stairs | 
| Forces are summoning | 
| Summoning it’s thunder | 
| Fortress — deck of my empty salvation | 
| Angry the one that awaken the shell | 
| Is it our vow? | 
| In our rights | 
| Scraped theft lies | 
| From what we’ve done | 
| To speak his running act without a touch | 
| The human race has been deformed | 
| A cruel escape is out our eyes | 
| Kill the hero to forsake! | 
| Whisk around him die | 
| Colors wither, miserables | 
| Our eyes will see no-one | 
| Scraped theft lies | 
| From what we’ve done | 
| To speak his running act without a touch | 
| The human race has been deformed | 
| A cruel escape is out our eyes | 
| Building monster to believe | 
| The infected way | 
| Gallards beckon, miserables | 
| Alas mutiny no more | 
| New mouth! | 
| New blind! | 
| New bone! | 
| New life! | 
| No more, no blind! | 
| No more, no blind! | 
| Can’t retake grace’s aura | 
| But you’ve built crucifix side | 
| You stubborn computer savior | 
| Crawl our days, but it’s in blood | 
| You come, you should | 
| We scratch the past! | 
| Into the sucular | 
| I grab the jagged gaze | 
| Come and speak truth false | 
| Even I’ll erase | 
| (Come and speak truth false | 
| Even I’ll erase) | 
| Scraped theft lies | 
| From what we’ve done | 
| To speak his running act without a touch | 
| The human race has been deformed | 
| A cruel escape is out our eyes |