Greetings From Easter Island

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