---

Through mistfall in the morning we search for mystery.
Lights blazing, hearts racing, please, Gaia, let us be free!
We friends strive for blessings for our living bones
while others like maggots, crawl across your body, oh no!

In our ear a whisper calls:
Go west, young man!

No longer can we explore beyond the village, across the sea.
This post-industrial planet, goddammit,
is skewing our natural souls!
So wayfaring tellurians we call, let's aim at those cagey stars!
We'll hop in our rockets and blast off beyond...

Go west, young man!
And live with what land?

Look right - jump left - there's nowhere.

O, and there's no mystery left in the world.
Grab your rayguns 'cause we're going to space!
In this fondled world of ours
it's hard to believe that there's no stone unturned.

No, there's no mystery left in your eyes
except the twisted kind we make for ourselves.
This stain on history, as small as it is, is seeping through the pages.

And so, my lover, my unintentional whore,
you victim of fornicatious aberration,
we bid you adieu.

---

Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.