The brute nausea of existence, the becoming feature of an oracular ocean of angry static,devotes itself to this forgotten planet. The modern man, bound and chained in a lightless basement, cries out for purpose, for value, for an unwarranted jump to the prohibitedsecond story. Cursed to a barren land of rigid indifference, a kingdom built on the 'firm foundations of unyielding despair,” his clutching fingers find no substance to grasp, no material for meaning.
He opens wide his eager mouth, but his lungs reject the acrid air. The invariable product of the cold mechanics of this blind machine.
He opens wide his eager mouth, but his lungs reject the acrid air. The invariable product of the cold mechanics of this blind machine.
committed to the communal grave, the mindless universe permits all things. These grand ethics we've created, these nominal objectives in which we struggle to discover a just cause to believe, prove no gain but defeat.
A blurry picture painted with the debris of morality, a vilipend masterpiece orchestrated in the lifeless fashion of pseudo-reality.
We've erased the sun, and yet we still try to see.
We've erased the sun, and yet we still try to see.
The brute nausea of existence, the becoming feature of an oracular ocean of angry static,devotes itself to this forgotten planet.
Cursed to a barren land of rigid indifference, a broken kingdom
We've erased the sun
We've erased the sun
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