Sangtekst: Septic Flesh. Geometry In Static.

Behold that a path is created from these traces of ink
Letters join numbers
Sounds come forth manifesting the plasticity
This is the direct outcome of the continuous war
The collision of the worlds of change and stability

One would sense the mind behind them
If only he could withdraw from
The relentless alterations of its forms

I have swum against rivers of fallacy
Chaotic symmetry and have returned
From the point of weakness
To the root of triumph

Between the circular entrances of spinning dark suns
I traveled with the company of a triangle
To the dark corners of cosmos

Geometry in static

In frozen wells I left my seal for the future travelers
Sunken trilithons bear my signature
In wombs of yellow on the phosphoric remnants
Of organisms with consciousness long erased

One would sense the mind behind them
If only he could withdraw from
The relentless alterations of its forms

Between the circular entrances of spinning dark suns
I traveled with the company of a triangle
To the dark corners of cosmos

Geometry in static