Theremin Songtext
von Edward Scissortongue

Deep in the mystic pit,
Deeper than I′ve ever been,
Deeper than the anabolic foetuses that never dream,
Deeper than the feeble little carcasses that never scream.
The silence of the lambs inside the guillotine.
Even if an atom bomb was soaring to a setting sea.
I'll be walking on until the laser beams envelop me.
Walking onward till the shrapnel takes my face off me,
Walking onward - mankind versus grey machines.


Never face defeat - never let the doom set,
Never dig a deeper hole, settle where the guns kept,
Every single moment in this epoch isn′t done yet,
Every single organism twitching as the sun sets,
And as the sun bled, and ran red,
The birds saw the flames and abandoned the love nest,
The seasons deleted the seeds,
As the legions of people bereaved,
All their evil would come next.
It came forth shining on horizons,
Turrets on the fourth floor crystallised in silence,
Word on the street is that death is their assignment,
Lasers and nerve gas, methods to divide us,
Every single human being, every single one of us,
Every single heart was beating faster than a fizzing slug,
And so we battled for a hundred months,
Molecules embarked, took hold and now your lungs are fucked.
A hundred bucks doesn't mean shit now,
A dozen canned goods for a dozen mans sit down and pipe up.
Join hands and cry blood,
Ask for forgiveness, resistances rise up.
2X4's meet metallic skulls and rebound like 2-point layups in a
drunken little street fight,
With two prime suspects in a tunnel vision treehouse,

With two types of honey in the belly of the bee hive.

And now the Presidents on speed dial,
Reading from the pages of his gold leaf bible book,
Sending out a message to the frontline,
To keep up the good work and pray that the mothership
will leak goods,
Warheads to forcefields light up the sky like,
Gunpowder plots on the fourth of July,

But the forcefields stay strong,
Foreign metals sweating on rockets information like
swans in the night time.

And demise tastes real in the blood bank.
Triple-O negative is running low and hearts need the
sustenance to beat back,
Foraging for berries in these bleak black tunnels of this
monolithic heat tank,
We sank deeper than the sonnets affirmed,


A bleak ether descended as the populous burned,
Stood looking for an echo as these colonies churned the sky yellow,
The merriments of Montgomery Burns.

Top Gun, Tom Cruise, pilot, shot down.
Corkscrews punishing this lifeless plumage.
I saw hundreds pulled apart by their ribcage.
Man grew haggard, grew bloated by the bruises,
And this mere flesh here,
This mere flesh wasn′t built like a nine-foot cyber savage stalking.
It wasn′t built like a fine tuned sentinel,
With fume vents zig-zagging faster than endorphins.
Right hooks swinging like a bag full of spanners,
Straight glimmering in colour till the blood grew layered
and the pistons that churned at the summit of the balance,
kept turning and moving and heating and burning.
Slugs from the parapet,

Nothing to the ten-speed,
Quaking in your boots with a trench foot bulbous.
Celebrating Polaroids of generation gaps in this minute,
Every minute just a minute from the landslide.

Light up the sky,
Hang out in the minds,
Put five bullets in your family tonight,
Say why oh why did the maker decide,
That this android hellathon arrived here tonight?

Light up the sky,
Hang out in the minds,
Put five bullets in your family tonight,
Say why oh why did the maker decide,
That this android hellathon arrived here tonight?

{Lyrics typed up by Miles Blake.}