| Yeah, yeah
|
| This ain’t the synapse
|
| Chill factor 60
|
| Microverse entered
|
| So black, it’s slip stream
|
| Dip both the headlights
|
| Mountain to the background
|
| Forcefield activate
|
| Operation black cloud
|
| Operation sub source
|
| 8 gauge for hand over
|
| Reset the mind field
|
| This is what we planned sober
|
| We stand closer
|
| Fall back to vessel 2
|
| Team in position
|
| Go smack the destitute
|
| Ready to transmit
|
| Grid map to the free load
|
| Construct the rhythm tall
|
| Stand by to decode
|
| Survey the battlefield like site off all the blacktop
|
| Power up the ammo yield
|
| Close top on blackbox
|
| I exhale the white mist
|
| Cyber brain circus
|
| Locked to pinpoint my sidefix
|
| Brace for the kickback
|
| Soon then I’m
|
| Ghost hack to fly wall
|
| Squeezed on the jump start
|
| And respond to Messiah call
|
| Black Sun Empire
|
| Test of time
|
| Nightfire
|
| New dawn
|
| New day
|
| We emerge
|
| As they fade away
|
| Yeah, yeah
|
| This ain’t the synapse
|
| Chill factor 60
|
| Microverse entered
|
| So black, it’s slip stream
|
| Dip both the headlights
|
| Mountain to the background
|
| Forcefield activate
|
| Operation black cloud
|
| Operation sub source
|
| 8 gauge for hand over
|
| Reset the mind field
|
| This is what we planned sober
|
| We stand closer
|
| Fall back to vessel 2
|
| Team in position
|
| Go smack the destitute
|
| Landscape mindswept
|
| Feel the up evil
|
| Widespread grievance
|
| No sight of people
|
| Trails of mass movement
|
| Slowly diminishing
|
| As the earth burns
|
| My backs burns are grimacing
|
| Bittersweet silhouette
|
| Promise of a new age
|
| Eclipsed by a red mist
|
| Or a burst of blue haze
|
| All I see is carrying
|
| Souls flee to starscape
|
| Yeah, check, yo
|
| Black Sun Empire
|
| Dawn Of A Dark Day
|
| Feet pounding the asphalt
|
| Streets clouding in ash fall
|
| We solemnly remember as we step through the embers
|
| The absence of siren sounds deafening our senses
|
| No more pretenses
|
| Smoldering picket fences
|
| Head bowed, we tread south, gathering wood to straggle us
|
| Silence is our language
|
| Shattered, we’re wounded travelers
|
| Battered by the heat swell
|
| Dust reflecting heat tone
|
| Future’s in our hands once we resurrect the genome
|
| Black Sun Empire
|
| Test of time
|
| Nightfire
|
| New dawn
|
| New day
|
| We emerge
|
| As they fade away
|
| New dawn
|
| New day
|
| We emerge
|
| As they fade away |