The truth behind the all-seeing eye

Midnight city glowing purple in the

rain. Static whispers calling out my

secret name. Maiden prophets dancing

underneath the signs. Lost souls

searching through the frequencies

tonight. Chrome reflections in the black

arcade lights. Terror visions flicker on

the satellites.

Everybody said the dreamers lost

control. That we found religion in the

overflow. Oh, signals in the darkness.

Voices through the screen.

Something strange is waking up inside

the machine.

We are the cold

running through the neon sky.

Restless.

We never die. Heat. Heat.

Heat. Heat.

Cathedrals humming sacred tones. Broken

angels speaking through the telephones.

Our cast spot it strangers ghost line.

Building something they could never

redefine.

Pink horizon burning through the

atmosphere.

Every star transformed into a

chandelier.

No more silence. No more hiding in the

blur. Know the signal stronger than it

ever was before.

Static revelation

calling from beyond.

Every lonely frequency

feel.

We are the cold of sight. We're riding

through the neon sky.

Electrics and restless mind.

We never die.

We are

psyching

with the sacred flame

into the night.

The paper

we

call

turning pain into transmission

on the endless road.

The city sleeps below us, but the signal

still survives.

Every lost and wondering soul

is finally

alive.

Some of

emotional electric guitar

soaring

80s cinematic energy.

We are the cold of psychic riding like

the satellite

and mystics of the future world.

We are the cold of psychic voices rising

from the void.

Building temples out of dreams.

Take and destroy.

Purple

skies the signal lies forever. Ever.