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Incandescent mass burials' bloom

Underneath our barren feet

Here, high above the scorching pit

The reek gets bearable

And so we glide on the lines

Faces reflecting horizon

The spintrian buzz of the noble

The steady pace

That brings more unrest than comfort

So are the hardships of truce

The outskirts of unwavering order

One only a mother could love

We carved our failures in stone

Pierced the rubber curtains

To unfold the ocean of bliss

Yet beyond the folds

Is the predator’s scheme

Womb upon womb

…AMETHIA…

Never thought I’d pity myself that much

Childhood love

Still more relevant than tomorrow

For the sake of this song

I will tell you I was strong

The horizon never comes

And the tightrope never gets wider

I stare at the swarm over concrete jungle

Clenching tight to the tale of balance

Where is the punchline?

How come the things still roll?

For all the good we’ve done

There was always a bucket of lies

Darkness weaves the sky

Bleeding tar through eyes and ears

Mouths drool the anthem:

“With head up your ass

It’s easier to face the entropy”

If all is but white noise

Keeping up appearances was not essential

This is our honour

To burn the neighbour on a stake

Tear the stranger’s eye out

In an act of compassion

And repeat

Till the last man standing

Glass will flood us

Girders will fall

Who is to blame if not everyone?

Glass will flood us

Girders will fall

It’s so damn fucking hard

To piece the thoughts together

Setting Sun lays shadows on the ant world

Slowdown’s coming, but who's to stop?

The horizon never comes

And the tightrope never gets wider…