(The Chemistry of Confounding Life) at the center of a holy mess we encase the realm with pavement scheme, breed and shit and then feed off the dead
(Over at the Hadron) to let truth be told I'm quaking in my boots at the thought of black holes revealing themselves in the expanses of this old land
(Oh, believe me- Your death will be most celebrated) I'm coming home! God, I'm coming home! To awaken the depths of blood to shake the rot from these