In the beginning of all there wasn't anything Neither pain nor imperfection Thus the gods wove a cloak Which covered the world in its shadow A shadow that is the definition Of true darkness
From the black pits of hell (which was his mind) Came to the surface the most sordid of beings Which also (they) were his mind Now inhabiting a vessel of clay Doomed to wander under the shadow
"We march back to becoming one We march back to Uno..."
Every piece of art must be shown to the public or else it loses its meaning A meaningless creation to begin with serves only the purpose of being seen Every new contemplation, a new rush of dopamine flows trough the space Of every human being, a new spectator, something to get pleasure from To respond to the given stimuli, the sole purpose of this life This billion year work has proven to be nothing but a waste of time
In the end of all, there will be nothing Neither pain nor imperfection Thus the gods shall burn the cloak Covering the world in fire A fire that is the definition Of true lightTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
