In the midst of oppression;
The buzzing of truth finds hard to flutter.
In a carousel of corpses;
Such is a truth to stay awake.
In the lines of fuzzy minds;
How uncanny it is to find a thought;
Of a head with a travel far from reality;
His pen the anchor to mundaneness.

Strum the song that nobody ever knows,
Strum the song nobody would ever know;
Sing of the words that words cannot understand,
Let those knocking whisper their voices.
Sulk upon the sounds of trembling thunders;
Let the rain deafen you whole.
Blind your eyes from the truth with distortion;
Your pain the anchor to reality.

Let the pendulum swing;
Let the smoke turn you vague;
Let the scorn that darkness brings;
Let the sedation leave you enraged.
Let the twisted remain as they are;
Perhaps they were twisted for a reason;
Turn numb with all unconnected words;
*Confusion the anchor to the earth.