can you feel the void of its substance? the lash of a million tongues, licking the wounds of our inner entrapment the paradox discovers its sentence in the gallery of obsession we imagine our introspective self becoming insane we are broken pieces of a denied sanity we, the dehumanized stains of creation, we only wait for the lie [Chorus] for the beautiful illusion that feeds on our fears will we find ourselves again in a refuge built upon our last pieces of sanity? the beautiful illusion from which we can't run away can you feel the void of its substance? the lash of a million tongues licking the wounds of our inner entrapment we are broken pieces of a denied sanity we, the dehumanized stains of creation, we only wait for the lie [Chorus] for the beautiful illusion that feeds on our fears will we find ourselves again in a refuge built upon our last pieces of sanity? our last pieces of sanity crawl through non-reality where consciousness flows in streams of ignorant omniscience and we outstretch our arms reaching infinity embracing ourselves in nothingness becoming part of essential architectures