Paroles de Decompiled

born into imperfection once flawed but now made whole cancer's seed stricken lest we may grow uncontrolled knowledge's gift brought us to the edge of oblivion's maw poised at the lip we taste the poison of our form a thought kills the mind from which it was born the quest for release now is itself ... the disease from greed, we shall engineer the need unclean, unfit filtered, reset purity of form that which we've never known born into imperfection once flawed but now as whole cancer's seed stricken so that we may crawl on our own the gift of knowledge has brought us only despair poised at the edge of what without thought we seek the nadir