[Geno]

When the fire dies, wil the shadows still be present.


A wicked worlds biography, twisted twirls of geography
To much shit in the bag to explain this colostomy
Earthlings and labotomies, for this hell hole of pottery
That we melt, molded, sottering, into what's present modernly
So much dust -feathers frollicking, I mean picture it though
Watching the world through a glass pane as the window explodes
From a pin hole it grows, corrodes, until nothing exists
And will my shadow still be friendly when the sun flips its switch
While the moon flourishes, you inhabit caverns afraid
Because the footstones of life are now attatched to a leg
Its like we've gone back in the days when dragons were slayed
And birds are passed back and forth the way badmintons played
This is actual paint, I'm drawing you the violence I find
Watching our bright ideas fade as the fires subside
Candles burning, alkalines buying us time, a thoughtful design
But the maglights die without the chargeable kind
And the shadows get lost while thier walking behind
Night and day start to combine, its all in your mind
Compartments of lies, but hard to refuke..
The lights a fucking myth now, and the darkness is truth