Reptar, King of the Ozone

Bring it to your lips and experience the sulfur infect,

everything that we've created.

Don't twist this around.

Don't attempt to justify

what we know is wrong.

Tendons are torn

and screams are released

into a poisoned, mathematic atmosphere.

We're composing our funeral songs

Note by note.

We're composing our funeral songs

Note by note.

With this I declare that

tomorrow is an allusion.

What if the clouds

were fragments of mistakes

fabricated by the factories

of our foolishness

foolishness

We're composing our funeral songs

Note by note.

We're composing our funeral songs

Note by note.

Prove me wrong

Prove me wrong

Prove me wrong