Whimsy and grim tidings
One by one by one
The day has come to write our name
In water on the sun
Dreaming of the spaces
We seek between the stars
Reaching forth with unsure hands
To grasp what will be ours
How long will winter color
Your words white with innocence
I will not listen to your
Self destructive common sense
Through this city built on lust and sin
He shambles ever on
Machines rumble and criminals grin
They write his lonesome song
He stares at the stone-faced clockwork
Waiting, hoping for a sign
He bleeds out into pools of the muck
And waits for the end of his time
He drowns in the sludge that drips
From the cogs of the great machine
He devolves with the world
As it awaits execution, on its knees