Bring it to your lips and experience the sulfur infect everything that we've created
Don't twist this around
Don't attempt to justify what we know is wrong
Tendons are torn and screams are released into a poisoned, mathematic atmosphere
We're composing our funeral songs, note by note
With this I declare that tomorrow is an illusion
What if the clouds are fragments of mistakes,
Fabricated by the factories of our foolishness?
We're composing our funeral songs, note by note
Prove me wrong