We are waiting
Watching the black mirrors failing
Dating us all to nought
Clock is ticking
Integer climbing quickly
There is no more room
The hour draws late
The servants die
This is our fate
The time runs dry
Panic rising
The screens are slowly dying
Numbers start to fade
Wailing nations
Mutiny at all the stations
No one can get through
The hour draws late
The servants die
This is our fate
The time runs dry