We... make... ritual noise.
We... make... ritual noise.
We... make... ritual noise.
We... make... ritual noise.
We make ritual noise.
We weave the fabric of dreams.
We build cities of sound.
We feel the rhythm of time.
We make ritual noise.
We weave the fabric of dreams.
We build cities of sound.
We feel the rhythm of time.
We make ritual noise.
Alive to the world under our fingertips.
We take special care,
and listen to the words spoken in confidence.
We make ritual noise.
Shouting to be heard, cooling our burning lips.
We break down the gates.
Open up our wounds, bleeding for innocence.
We make ritual noise.
We weave the fabric of dreams.
We build cities of sound.
We feel the rhythm of time.
We live dangerous lives; we have the power of will.
Translate the command: we feed the engines of change.
We... make... ritual noise.
We... make... ritual noise.
We make ritual noise.
We weave the fabric of dreams.
We build cities of sound.
We feel the rhythm of time.
We live dangerous lives; we have the power of will.
Translate the command: we feed the engines of change.
We make ritual noise.
We weave the fabric of dreams.
We build cities of sound.
We feel the rhythm of time.
We make ritual noise.
We weave the fabric of dreams.
We build cities of sound.
We feel the rhythm of time.
We make ritual noise.
We weave the fabric of dreams.
We build cities of sound.
We feel the rhythm of time.
We... make... ritual... noise.
We... make... ritual... noise.