Create the Infinte

Listen and I'll tell you the story of our end / Equate the calculation, salvation's fucking dead / Learn the lesson quickly / The enemies of reality bring the sickness/ Of cleasing genius

What are we but men without eyes? / Swimming through the poison of design 

Create the infinite and expand the question / Count to number of seven / Your day of rest creates infection, your imperfection

What are we but men without eyes? / Swimming through the poison of design 

The waves ran as the storm came / The lighting in the distance signaled the coming / crushing days / The sky was brooding and beautiful / And the gulls sailed like recycled fragile entities

The waves bled and the storm changed /in the cold embrace of the unknown / Not even blood could bring us warmth

There is no future shock / There is no god  / There is no fashionable deliverance

What are we but men without eyes? /Swimming through the poison of design / What are we but men without eyes? /Swimming through the poison of design 

_Nevermore_Enemies of Reality_

é la canzone da cui ho tratto il nome per il blog...che ne pensate?