Besedila: Burst. Crystal Asunder.

I see the cadence
Random but altogether clear
This scorn was never mine
Though it's all that I hold dear

Futile charity, holy promises
I dream it all away
This consequence is yours to keep
I shun it all away

Stone, buried, asunder

I burn stale fever running high
Clawing at my skin
The temple the wraith has had its say
In the bright transparent light

Stone, buried, asunder

And I define a wanton cold
And I decline the patterns of old
You will never defeat
The cadence sublime

Stone, buried, asunder