THE COLD UN-AIR OF SPACE OUT OF REACH
MARS IS FORSAKEN
WE ARE NOT WHERE WE BELONG
IN PURGATORY WHERE THE DIRECTOR IS THE STAGE
A SICK TRAGEDY BUILT TO ENTERTAIN THE BEYOND
WE LIVE IN APATHY
WE LIVE NEVER SEEING TRUE LIGHT
WE LIVE IN THESE COLD HALLS AND SHALLOW ILLUSIONS
BECAUSE IT IS ALL WE KNOW
WE CRY OUT INTO THE DARK IN HOPE THEY RETURN
WE HAVE BEEN LOST FOR SO LONG
HARK THEY WILL TO THE DRAB AND RUINED BODY OF THIS PLACE WE THINK THEY WILL
A MERE FANTASY
THAT IS WHAT IT IS