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It's raining in the basement, these fishes are vicious

The neighbours are impatient and growing up vacant

I swear if I were a snake, I'd be a belt by now

Cold mountainous journeys require a thicker skin

I swear if I were a snake, I'd be a belt by now

No maker tailored this leather, flesh and skull bound within

We speak in tongues and tell each other to shut up

With all the dry heat and wet thighs our coffin are causing

To walk up the walls and breathe under water

Burn down your homes at the bottom of the ocean

Swim up on iron lunge

We make up sciences and riddle them with lies

Our new ratios are perfect crimes

No cell can hold us, we dig our own graves

Zoroaster, find something of meaning and be saved

Rising up from the grave

A series of mistakes has been made