Listen and I'll tell you the story of our end   Equate the calculation, salvation's fucking dead   Learn the lesson quickly   The enemies of reality bring the sickness   Of cleansing genius      What are we but men without eyes?   Swimming through the poison of design      Create the infinite and expand the question   Count to number seven   Your day of rest creates infection, your imperfection      What are we but men without eyes?   Swimming through the poison of design      The waves ran as the storm came   The lightning in the distance signaled the coming crushing days   The sky was brooding and beautiful   And the gulls sailed like recycled fragile entities      The waves bled as the storm changed   In the cold embrace of the unknown   Not even blood could bring us warmth      There is no future shock   There is no god   There is no fashionable deliverance      What are we but men without eyes?   Swimming through the poison of design   What are we but men without eyes?   Swimming through the poison of design