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"Now I have become death, the destroyer of worlds.

I suppose we all thought that; one way or another." - J. Robert Oppenheimer

Skeletons of rust left in its wake

At first a silent progression then came the arpeggios of death

Slowly weaving the web

Connecting the junctions

Raiding the earth

For silver and gold

Uncreation

Prepare for your final embrace

Within the walls of your grace

You can continue your crusade

Uncreation manmade

Elements escaping the atmosphere

Leaving all hope to science

Echoes of slaughter

Still you won't see

That the world needs you

Echoes of torment

Still you won't see

That the world needs you

Prepare for your final embrace

Within the walls of your grace

You can continue your crusade

Uncreation manmade

Prepare for your final embrace

Within the walls of your grace

You can continue your crusade

Uncreation manmade