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The divine reign of the gloriously mundane will surely end

Let the sullen grey void suck you in and spit out your splinters

Familiarity breeds contempt. Is misery your company? A broken toy in a monster’s war.

A tear that’s spit in the rain, a stain of fear in an insane mind in hell

The silent sound of humanity’s death knelt.

Your throne is in fact your hearse. Your blessing is also your curse.

Vilipend the vainglorious, the crestfallen in their quagmire

Sticks and stones, shall I grind your bones to make my bread?

Bleed feelings from phantom limbs, from salvation to immortal sin

Forgotten glories, rusted trophies, the smiling scars within

They cannot see, they cannot feel

What they scatter dead seeds in a nocturnal breeze.

We will only bend for what we cannot break

Rush through the silver slithering stream

Picture perfect prejudice, the judge and jury are all guilty

Society is indiscriminate—it's live and let live—live and let’s kill

Ameliorate passion, live for fashion, die for profit

Stab the eyes out of this world’s last great prophet.

They cannot see, they cannot feel

What they scatter dead seeds in a nocturnal breeze.

We will only bend for what we cannot break

Rush through the silver slithering stream

The stage is dark now the lights are dim.

Through the echoes of the last encore still silently scream.

Down in cold fire—drink its frozen flame—finally be complete.

The dead may still dream—rush through the twilight silver slithering stream