Their eyes were shattered by stroboscopic dawn
Distortion controls a throng of hollow souls
They arise from the cathode chasm
From the depth of the untruth
They can't conceive the reality
Scorn for the fact
Uncritical submission
They don't touch the wire of the neon
Moon
The progression of the strain
With the denial of the pain
With the denial of the thought
By Trojan horse that we received like a gift
Your fate is pain
When will the wires disjoint me?
When will the wires disjoint me?
I will be denuded of emotions