Besedila: Institute. Distort Yourself. Seventh Wave.

Till the end of time
The world stops
We all stand still
Let the floods come
As they always do
Watch the sun break through

We are memories and signs
Some of what we leave behind
Waiting for the wave
We are fragments made of time
We are broken, we are fine

There's something
In repetition, real life
Not some exhibition

I wouldn't wish it on you
I wouldn't wish it on myself
The sanatorium is overworked, cannot help

They steal you from a future life
You've got to stop hurt
A thousand ways you can escape
Disappear and fade away

Tell me that I'm wrong
All that strength can make you weak
Chasing you and chasing me all night

There's something
In repetition, real life
Not some exhibition

I wouldn't wish it on you
I wouldn't wish it on myself
The sanatorium is overworked and cannot help
The balance is your spayed
You make it back like no one else

There's something
Repetition, real life
Real life, real life, real

I wouldn't wish it on you
I wouldn't wish it on myself
The balance is your spayed
You make it back like no one else
The sanatorium is overworked and cannot help

I wouldn't wish it on you
I wouldn't wish it on myself
Myself, myself