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what kind of room is this that has no sun
where all the days of empire come to rest
no heat no cold no sense of anyone
forgiveness blurred for sins no one confessed

is this the way damnation comes these days
darkness masquerading as frozen light
like cockroaches the prayers scuttle away
from the sudden glare of our electric night

is this the way the other ones survive
cowering into the rhythm of their breath
counting the hours they pretend to be alive
and worshipping the secret of their death

stop don't stop begin and never end
failure lies in wait for everyone
nothing's broken nothing's there to mend
time has vanished till the grey is done