A manuscript   Reasoned out a senseless act   In black and white   Molding monsters out of ash.       The cameras roll   Grainy faces gray with fear.    The ratings climb   Making movies out of death. Out of death!      Can you feel this?! Will you forget?!      'Surprise!', he said   I've got a present for you   And everyone like you.       Bring me your tired and your broken down   Blind from the lights and deaf from hollow sound   The Day of Judgment will be televised   We'll live forever on the celluloid.       What's best for you?: die a choreographed death   With everyone watching    With hungry eyes   We'll devour your flesh for a thousand re-runs.