Noise-synced delirium
Acidic injection
objection! Too loud
impassive perception's
important to render the silk from the fiend
The synths coming at you
with sawing and beams
and there, pristine
the song of the axe
the splitting of atoms
they're tuning the parallax
revving the tendon
the chord they depend on
the pipe of the warlord
and howl of the warhorde, stampeding
pounding the earth it's a drum
and the thrum of the piper
who's flashing his guns
and valkyries, mounted,
join in the rush
and then hush
the clouds seizing
the chance to combust
and to shed a tear
or a thousand drops
of ecstasy
onto the trampled crops.