Prospect 2:

Under it all - a new world
Under it all - a new world
A new world made with the hands of madness
These hands, these hands, these hands
They will always do the cutting
Piece by piece the pain gets worse
The pain gets worse
If only I could see myself right now

The gathering of flesh
Transforming my face into an unrecognizable state
Smooth out the eyes, smooth out the lips
Every mirror is a past idea smashed upon recognition
(These selfish reasons... the letter is all I left for explaining)

Will it be found?
Will the right hands deliver the heartache I left?
Will it be found?
Will the right hands deliver the heartache I left?

Cut until all that is left is new material
Myself, day in, day out
Deep down I know what I must do
So much happens behind closed doors
So much happens behind our closed doors
This key will open them, expose us all

Crusty-eyed symphony
Awakened by my grunts and moans
Why do I do this to myself?
I suppose the choice was all mine
God felt so much better before the mirror glimpse
On the surface I know what I must do
What I must do

God felt so much better before the mirror glimpse
On the surface, I know what I must do
What I must do, what I must do
What I must do, what I must do

Folder 502:

The precaution documents
The fail-safe way back "home"
Should I end it right here and now?
The precaution documents
The fail-safe way back "home"
Should I end it right here and now?
That would be far too selfish
I shall end what I've begun
The creation of more, more of us
The skin and bones of destruction
An army of weak souls, weak minds
Weak souls, weak minds
Weak souls, weak minds
Weak souls, weak minds
Weak souls, weak minds
Weak souls, weak minds
Weak souls, weak minds
Weak souls, weak life
(Written in a language I can understand. My brilliance seems questioned with these instructions. Fairly obvious for precaution documents I suppose. The "Night Owls" always send me back. Seems to be in ther DNA)
.fade out

I wake to my own whimper
Ship is counting down
Must regroup myself

I wake to my own whimper
Ship is counting down

The end starts now

Cut until all that is left is new material
Myself, day in, day out
Cut until all that is left is new material
Myself, day in, day out