Lathe of the stars, where they dine
On the bones of men they admired, co-conspired
For all that they have planned
Obsolescence, greatest lessons
You can't afford to miss
Don't go quietly in the night sea
You're too good for this

And we're sold for our salt
Get your hands from my throat

Sign off the rights to your biggest fight
That you can't commit to the long view as it drains through
Lacquers wearing thin
Convalescence needed presence
You can achievе it yet
Don't go quietly, 'cause you might bе
The catalyst reset

And we're sold for our salt
Get your hands from my throat
And we're made from pre-owned
Rip the wires, crash the core