[Music: Sundin, Johansson, Henriksson]
[Words: Sundin]
Still alive
all knowing eye
beneath your stream of words
your rapid stream of words
Though none will
the radiant stream
the promised hues
from which your picture fell
Re-seal the components from atom hearts
Revert, non-owner of worlds
As uncommunication becomes the manifest
our alien, architectural skeletons in unison collapse
Death rode these silent caravans
and steered them to the ?(o/a)?im of the world.
Their diaries and withered letters
all devoted to the art of dying
The enterprise, academy
the crafts held in our hands
all devoted to the art of dying
No room to arrange
the final row of masks
drenched in chameleon-ink
for the grand charade
The tongues that burn in you
the slowly altered language
that colonised your heartland
advanced through broken doors
And they still believe in you
They seem to see
so many things
booked in your pestilent eye
Your stale lids, your iris punctured
by tongues licking a lie
The enterprise, wolvenlore
the cursed seed of man
plunged through the tunnels of uncreation
We reach out to move the landmark,
hands seeping down from the chronicles of time
The quill now blunt
the scribe devoured