Vectors
(Verse)
Feel the shimmers, the embers of destruction
Push the change and we open the gate quietly
Ripening infatuations never elevate your 'right' reality
Your final cue
Your compelling torments are plain
Six feet from the rest herding the pests
This is a nest of preference reality
Earth shapen
When the nightmare is almost complete
Six feet from the rest herding the pests
This is a nest of preference reality
Common sense, you have nothing to give away
Asking you about the former species
The deserters from the other realm
Shady strings of manipulators
Consolations for the ultimate collapse
