I have begun to separate the conscious mind from my soul,
To cloud my judgment, I give up my control.
I trust in the Ethers of Karma to focus,
Correlate a plan to save myself from my hand.
I have been broken again; scatter the pieces to the wind…
Caught in the ignorant trends that bends my will to kill men,
Holding their life in my scarred hands,
I feel released:
Freed from within by the anger that feeds the darkness I crave,
The drugs have now slipped away.
Lost in a cloud of silver and cold.
The Dualities inside me are killing me,
I want to…?
Drifting aside the basslines I try to fly.
The Ethers of Karma are slaughtered by the Ethers of the Cold.
The relentlessness that follows as the kaos is allowed to swallow,
So drink the little potion to shrink wrap your mind.
Brain-dead is the populace that surrounds us.
Lost is the Prophet among us.
Speak now the Tongues Of Babel to swaddle the Babe Of Man,
And escape into the safety of the darkness of the twilight.
Angered are the Lords Of Kaos. Destroy The Babe Of Man.
The answer to prevent the cataclysm foretold lies in The Tower Of Babel.
Draw on the power of the Ethers of the Cold.
Save your race or die alone.