Besedila: Gojira. The Way of All Flesh. Toxic Garbage Island.

Mysterious form, soul in the dark
Under this heavy sealing concrete waves
Followed by servants, funeral cortege
This pale ghost is gathering his strength

Ghost, pale, the procession is crawling

Plastic form dead things, it is now so clear
How could I fail to understand
Cities are burning, the trees are dying
My heart awake but still
Pain is killing me, pain is killing me

Take this pestilent destruction out of my way
The great pacific garbage patch is exhausted
And the world is sliding away in a vortex of floating refuse
With the sacred one you have lost

Plastic bag in the sea
Plastic bag in the sea
Plastic bag in the sea
Plastic bag in the sea