Oh, behold this infamity
Behold the grey skies
Beware of her candor
Home of the flies

So, you've seen it all?
So, it stands there?
Growing steep and tall
Like a lonely stare

Oh, not again
Not the wind nor the morrow
Not the hidrogen slopes
Not the canyon of sorrow

Trading dirt and their sweat
Ambrosia falling free
They will never forget
As this story takes three

And wrecking Olympus
And bludgeoning stars
She will carry their fetus
Mind dying from afar

Telling tales of woe
With insanity lurking
Sadly, we go
With nausea sulking