Tekster: William Ryan Fritch. Plumed & Desiccated. Colluding Corners.

When the diet soda hounds smell a dollar, all men talk big and unimaginative. when the fowl's dusty eyes see blood, pecking party begins. Make all thats hollow. resound of rhythm and we will dance and collide together All we want is bread and circuses, but when the currency is debauched we'll feed off pennies of blood from tragedies, bullfights and crucifixions, neither courage or cowardice saves us. Caress the pomp and parlor of peacocks, and we'll frog marching off cliffs. I pray for a vacant synapse, that I may never see red or green again. Every wall winces, for the corners are colluding. Stomachs are remorseless minds and seas, though i throw my throat to anchor it will surely flounder or rust altogether in the briny pits of my salty seething weight. All that is anchored will eventually flounder or rust altogether neath the salty seething weight

(Thanks to zach for these lyrics)