(Vocals written and performed by Brooke Schwartz are in italic.)
Coming to realize you've lost your mind by a constant assault from chemicals that destroy it. Unnatural distortion of natural function, something that can't be mended. You think you're immune to self-inflicted illness. Poison us with a beautiful idea and grant us power over science. Accept this new religion, we'll fabricate our truth. We'll let it destroy the parts of our minds that tell us when our rituals conflict with fact. What does it do for you but emulate? I'd rather feel on top of the world by my own actions than have a drug trigger a chemical reaction. You combine this natural energy with synthetic matter. These things don't mix.
When the year is twenty-twelve smite the eye of god, reap the seeds, sow a living hell. Bite the hand that feeds off the need to destroy, the lands that cry and die for dead saints. Will you shoot to kill or will you die in defense? Will you cross the line or sit at the fence amidst plague ridden castrated carcasses? Join the rank decay as you sift through hell. Out of the fire comes a demon so red that the red in his eyes shined through the lies, deceit, defeat, decay, collapse, relapse. The dawn of man in the palm of his hands and there, naked, is where you stand.
It has made you blind.
Blind is the air you breathe, blind retreat, as the earth burns at your feet, sift through hell. Blind is the life you lead, blind deceit, as the dead claw at your feet, sift through hell.
You can't master this mental discipline without a mind. You can't control molecular structures. You are no reverend mother. Will this take seven years to be realized? How long will it take?