I had a commune with the gods,
I then killed them all.
I held my throne as the populations died,
I had no remorse for the way that the gods died.
The book of life has been written but its pages don't turn,
as I can't read from a book that's been burned.
I'll swim my way to our melting moon,
to watch our world end centuries to soon.

Our seasons constant changing fills our minds with hallow doubts,
following conceptions of what this is all about.
Seconds turn to me, I grave them. Hours turn to centuries,
bending into years thrown back to feel our own worst memories.
For every star you see, is another scar on me.
Everyone's too numb and proud to admit to their hypocrisy.
Set it ablaze and scream in the dark,
our home is now filled with hideous scars.

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