Sons Of The Addicted Grey Matter
Gritty and grey, steal away your conscious mind
Revoke and compound the threads of time
You’re captivated by tranquil moments
The chaos by order torments
Chorus:
Who is we, Where is she
Molding the grey matter of my mind
Clearing away the foggy brine
Capture the moments beyond the line
Far away from cubical process
Far from which demons possess
[Chorus]
Cutting away from ties that bind
Searing away disease that blinds.
It’s sought after by those in lament
Mimicking thoughts in brilliant content
[Chorus]
