Burnt hillside
Sun soot fills my eyes
I shun their grip on time
Loose cannon backing crime
Blind steps to the axe
Truth howling at their backs

The vacant eye is gazing by
Dimly searching from the outside
As all the insects - running from their grave
Beg the iris for the things they crave
My devastation

We the insects build a homely tomb
Nurse the wound from the womb
Always preaching an eye for an eye
It's no wonder we're all blind

Devastation
Devastation
Devastation