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.
About: I think this one was about mosh pits and metal music.