Walk Through The Ash Of Man


Skin Like Fields On Fire


Pain Is Only A Weakness





We Are Connected Like Tissue


Feed On The Shame You Raised


Why Continue The Hervest?


We Are Already Dead





No One Can Reap These Stars We've Sown





There Is No Morning Sun


No Falling Rain


For Acres Of Skin





Wait! Can You Hear The Machines?


Gears That Cultivate Flesh


Why Continue The Harvest


We Are Already Dead





No One Can Reap These Stars We've Sown





There Is No Morning Sun


No Falling Rain


For Acres Of Skin





All I Want And Wish For


Is To End This Suffering


All Alone And Unaware


All Primed Up For Dying





Without Face, Without Mind


Without Dreams, Without Memory