Hammer of propaganda bashed with precision into the eyes of light
Return me to an era of only pure force and movements
Vortex of vibrations and purposeful thought
It has all become just magic now and the authors and guardians of the secrets
and solutions have laughed for the final time
Shown to me as the avatar of innocence but barb-wired with unseen malice and
fervor
Blessed be the powers of disfigurement for they say millions of useless of eaters have become too difficult to handle
Humanity the legend
The wails of men from disparate tribes disturb not even a bird in these days
No white flags to wave
Survival clock tic harder until the lowest of our bowels struggles with
self-defeat
Roll along, roll along, heads will roll along
Roll along, roll along, heads will roll along
Tic harder
Bowels struggle for self-defeat