We were seeded By a mother culture Children of genius That have stalled into ignorance. The writings on the wall Spell out a surprising past. We only decipher them To be primitive artistic rash.
God dies when the churches rise He was born when the ancient astronauts arrived The heavens exist and our maker is there, Death is not the way to visit, technology is our only prayer
The gods left behind, We're just scorned upon when appealed They are the maps to our existence That are soon to be revealed The writings on the wall Spell out a surprising past. We only decipher them To be primitive artistic rash.
God dies when the churches rise He was born when the ancient astronauts arrived The heavens exist and our maker is there, Death is not the way to visit, technology is our only prayer
Not ready to be the grateful slaves of the state
God dies when the churches rise He was born when the ancient astronauts arrived The heavens exist and our maker is there, Death is not the way to visit, technology is our only prayerTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
