something was wrong with the sound
believe us, we've tried to break everything down
to the simplest state of alaska to date
so our bodies are born from this sound
ow we reap what it is we have found.
something's grand in this place
between us, we equal an inhuman race
where the people parade on top of the graves
as a point that they make to tempt fate.
in alaska, we have found our skate.
on the first day, i locked myself inside my throat
and on the second, so lonely, i smashed the window
into a glorious world that i now call my home
all the fun that i've had since i came to the south.
rust and cyanide
somewhere out in this land
? carries the weight of a stand ?
where the purpose in our fares of truth or dare
i can stally and skin the plan
how valiant, how alaskan.
somehow haven't been lost
we made our way through
yeah, we made it across
and in the frozen glow of our auras
we know that there will be no holocaust
in alaska, there's no holocaust
at this latitude, have seen abandoned man's kind
at this longitude, no one regrets what they'd find
in the beautiful wasteland that steals from its crime
is a freedom of a feeling that's left undefined
rust and cyanide
oh, the sound of alaska.