Procreation of the damned We rely solemnly on how The antidote No cure for the sane The answer lies Nowhere in between Anaesthetize Sedate our children's bowels Hovering towers Ripping the sky Open Drenched in human flesh Old triangles Spawning new Wealth due to sorrow Limb by limb We climb the dead Wrestling on to raise our pride Blindfolded In constant search for more Always kiss the flesh of thorns Never face defeat The antidote No cure for the sane The answer lays Nowhere in between Lazarus Breathe once more Retrieve an infant To rule them all Cast aside All beauty adorned in pride Tend the seed once kept alive And so we all Relive our past To see it all The way our world Went by Stepping down From His throne of glittering stars The prince of ashes Embraced by the sun.