Inside our small cemented burying pigeonholes,
clinging to damp nocturnal perversions,
humbled by our fat whores,
dishonoured by degenerate sons.

Slaves for the dust called existence,
abortions looking for salvation,
we swarm into the hope,
dying into mouldered suburban rooms.

There's no evolution in our straw world,
just the death's flame.

Ash and shit,
blood and sperm.

Eternity disappears in an instant,
all that rests is empty and dumb silence.

Inattentive, we'll fade...