Tuning filters of the night Red a color vulgar, bright Blood old boils, sweet the bath Turning red the narrow path Feel the godspeed breaking your mind Like a cry with no sound Messed memories, so hard to find Make no sound Crossing borders out of sight Slow fall fire, burning light Snaring lines turning left Impending disaster, choking red Feel the godspeed breaking your mind Like a cry with no sound Messed memories, so hard to find Make no sound