Find your way to wither
At least make a choice
For you ain't nothing special
But I know you know

Time to seal my future
To give up the masquerade
Set the stones, define the circle
I am on my way

Reconcile your little empty
Mindless absurdities
Oh my little, little brat
Why don't you take a bite right off me?

narrow escape
Yet shadow takes on a more definite shape

Formation riding on a wave of ends
Allusive to the flowing tide of innuendo
Duration reaching out for breathing time
fall in on the rise, at heart

Now be a
Slave and spend your every single day in vain
Or react to the fact that you
Might as well be gone tomorrow

I can't deny I'll [bad word] 
With your static forms [bad word] 
Who made who, who claims to be [bad word] 
Tiny midgets on parade

Perceptions roar
Emerging from oblivion
Resemble grief
Among [bad word] of tragedy.