[Could they feel his formulas]
Sliding out of their holy claws
[miniatyrs] judged by the undying energy
[whom] never moulded with earthly hands
the spinning machine still playing
slaphand tickle with the ingredients
as the image of our detrimental race
evolved through falsified patterns
[From] when man was but a frogstomp seed
in its capacity of progress don't you get it
visitor with desired potential of myriad details
dating from abnorm programs of forced stress
bleak stranded inflict transformed to coloss
impenetrable by his arts deepening anatomy
the eyeball gimmicks chalkwhite peak
and those massive indigestible results
time history future evidence the lots
machine of all existential truth and lies
in spirit he grew to the size unknown
turning them [halfway] to see it all
inconceivable highs of the escaped one
a figurehead reflecting every loose end
now why the hell rip him off for pulse
his willful gloom and all the science
the feared sparkling dark solemn and fell
earthkings collapsed on cowardice again
