Lack-lustre vacuum magnetises the land, scopeless material in ruthless demand, concrete spectacle superficially grand, divine animation buried in sand.
Chorus :
Well rise from the ashes of stagnation, crystal warriors of damnation.
Nullified grafters manufactured from the womb, out of the repro-clinic into household tomb. Drag the nothing tiring through coal-dark underground, dri have the wheels of iron round and round.
Repeat chorus
Scouring eyes sear through that book of lies, and to the truth, well our search is dignified. Whilst the yawny drone of physical machinery march in robot mode to terminal destiny. Microscopic observance, forsaken innerland, spiritual inertia, absorbed in blanc, well our significance shant sink in their charade, Ocos through their drab pantomine I say were gonna ride
Chorus
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Cathedral
Ride :: Cathedral