The divine reign of the gloriously mundane will surely end
Let the sullen grey void suck you in and spit out your splinters
Familiarity breeds contempt. Is misery your company? A broken toy in a monster’s war
A tear that’s spit in the rain, a stain of fear in an insane mind in hell
The silent sound of humanity’s death knelt
Your throne is in fact your hearse. Your blessing is also your curse

Vilipend the vainglorious, the crestfallen in their quagmire
Sticks and stones, shall I grind your bones to make my bread?
Bleed feelings from phantom limbs, from salvation to immortal sin
Forgotten glories, rusted trophies, the smiling scars within

They cannot see, they cannot feel
What they scatter dead seeds in a nocturnal breeze
We will only bend for what we cannot break
Rush through the silver slithering stream

Picture perfect prejudice, the judge and jury are all guilty
Society is indiscriminate—it's live and let live—live and let’s kill
Ameliorate passion, live for fashion, die for profit
Stab the eyes out of this world’s last great prophet

They cannot see, they cannot feel
What they scatter dead seeds in a nocturnal breeze
We will only bend for what we cannot break
Rush through the silver slithering stream

The stage is dark now the lights are dim
Through the echoes of the last encore still silently scream
Down in cold fire—drink its frozen flame—finally be complete
The dead may still dream—rush through the twilight silver slithering stream