Tekster: Skyclad. The Ilk Of Human Blindness.

Midsummer 2045 they lay upon
The beaches burning
Insects on a ball of rock
Upon it's axis slowly turning

Steel and concrete melanomas
Punctuate the hot sunrise
Spines now chilled by global warming
Microwave, their last goodbyes

For sixty years or more they say
Mankind had known there'd come a day
When there would be a price to pay
Square eyes watched the fools game show
The first to go and last to know
Sat eating junk food on death row
(Fleeing the fall of the human empire)

No prophet cast the money lenders
From their polystyrene temples
No one heard the penny drop
All interest shown was incidental

Pity the chairman of the board
For all these years he's piled his hoard
But penniless he'll meet the lord
As all the world prepares to die
He stands before the needles eye
Whilst countless millions pass him by
(Fleeing the fall of the human empire)

Recalling all those wasted hours
Of motions passed and minutes taken
Maybe now he feels remorse
For all the souls he has forsaken

Silhouettes of living corpses
Remnants of a transcient race
March toward the red horizon
Evanesce without a trace

The proud [Incomprehensible] the meek
On debris littered city streets
They fight like dogs for scraps to eat
The welfare state's in disarray
All social order slips away
The primrose path lead to decay
(The curtain falls on the human empire)

Codes of conduct redefine
As justice turns to legal crime
These monsters masked by human features
Are by far the blindest creatures