Solitude is not given
 It is Earned
 In this Conspiracy
 Of Destiny

Empty Vessels
 Of Spermless Love
 Made of Mud and Mist
 I was Possessed

We Develop,
 We Delight,
 We Define and
 We Decay
 From within
 sacred Power
 Acting upon my Shame

In Pursuit of the Impossible Nothingness
 I found myself
 In Sacrilege
 Shall we die a Master-Slave
 For this Dog Day Age?
 Develop and Delight and Decay