Gathering The fragments of bodies Linking the words into statements Machinery's prepared Like a monster from necronish dimensions Separating dust from sentiments The Creator is forced to act The power of beholding the whole Though grounding on artificial truth Is only doing its duty For selling the perfect one in its kind Distorted Beauty in public service So like a picture of a dead virgin Carved above her watery grave Try to force the will, Will of your own Direction Wherein the lenses lie which brings To daylight the Imperfect Crime Through stirring at useful productions Of the infected minds The game has lost its purpose Reproducing the hearts of a dying child Acting in highest position of God Thousands of coherent lies synthesised Gathering The fragments of bodies Linking the words into statements Machinery is prepared like a monster, directed Towards the unknown species, Species unknown