Watch the futures Morphing of the lands Separations Destruction by the hands I thought a hundred times that I believed in more But the simplicity is chalking up the score We survive Only by our nature Basic cells Forming nomenclature 10 hundred-thousand years I'll bleed the burning mud And all the agony is useless as our blood Hunters, gatherers Rolled up into plaster Psychotic visions Of an ecclesiastic master I know the day has come, we're looking down the hole And all the commonwealth is going out the door So we sit Moulded in our minds Folded limbs Turning through the times I thought a hundred times that I believed in more But now I lighten up and wait for what's in store