We were seeded 
By a mother culture 
Children of genius 
That have stalled into ignorance. 
The writings on the wall 
Spell out a surprising past. 
We only decipher them 
To be primitive artistic rash. 

God dies when the churches rise 
He was born when the ancient astronauts arrived 
The heavens exist and our maker is there, 
Death is not the way to visit, technology is our only prayer

The gods left behind,
We're just scorned upon when appealed
They are the maps to our existence 
That are soon to be revealed 
The writings on the wall 
Spell out a surprising past. 
We only decipher them 
To be primitive artistic rash. 

God dies when the churches rise 
He was born when the ancient astronauts arrived 
The heavens exist and our maker is there, 
Death is not the way to visit, technology is our only prayer

Not ready to be the grateful slaves of the state

God dies when the churches rise 
He was born when the ancient astronauts arrived 
The heavens exist and our maker is there, 
Death is not the way to visit, technology is our only prayer
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