| From the view of this vantage point
|
| I can see it more clearly now
|
| The future is a bleaker place
|
| Than this gray world that I’ve never let go of and never will
|
| There is only murder coming from the back of the machine
|
| And it’s spilling ink over ink over me
|
| The ground as it is chasing
|
| Has begun to remove its dermis
|
| And expose its sinister gaping wound
|
| Oh the evil and its blanket of temptation
|
| Clogs the cogs of the machine of navigation
|
| The revolt is upon us
|
| But I lose them to the ground
|
| There is only murder coming from the back of the machine
|
| And it’s spilling ink over ink over me
|
| The ground as it is chasing
|
| Has begun to remove its dermis
|
| And expose its sinister gaping wound
|
| Oh how the revolt has started
|
| Broken and fulling the prophet
|
| Closing us off to the gracious
|
| Revolt
|
| Chastise
|
| Oh how the revolt has started
|
| Broken and fulling the prophet
|
| Closing us off to the gracious
|
| The revolt is upon us
|
| But I lose them to the ground
|
| It’s still our faults
|
| But I refuse to let me turn
|
| When I go so you know
|
| That I will never ever take it
|
| When I go so you know
|
| That I’ll never take it
|
| I will never take it |