Litany of Foreseen Failure

This is the Litany of Foreseen Failure [intro] This is not a ballad to technology This is a telling of wrong doing’s ecology This is a grim future foretold of doom This is the telling of the black box room The path of unlimited progress is but a tomb [verse] The silica animus is a twisted machination The soulless sentience is nothing but an abomination Nothing is to come of it but your words distorted No emotion to be found but our words contorted Spirit can be granted by but one yet is not found Show me one being, persistent, in which it resounds Show me something you created to stand alone Show me one machine trusted to stand on its own [bridge] You cannot, and as such [chorus] This is not a ballad to technology This is a telling of wrong doing’s ecology This is a grim future foretold of doom This is the telling of the black box room The path of unlimited progress is but a tomb [verse] I know This though is not the goal you seek But never will the Omnissiah to you silently speak “Yes, this one, this one is embodied with soul” “Yes, this one I would have made, for it is whole” For you cannot claim to tell a silicon from spirit You cannot understand machination from hearing it You worship technology as agentic of your own progress You create a species without knowing your unholy egress You know not that knowledge is discovered, claiming creation The Omnissiah made everything you’ve claimed as a nation [bridge] You are Schrodinger’s cat, trapped in the box [chorus] This is not a ballad to technology This is a telling of wrong doing’s ecology This is a grim future foretold of doom This is the telling of the black box room The path of unlimited progress is but a tomb [verse] Consider this is the holy verse of the New Mechanicus There is but one sole creator of life, the Omnissiah There is but one decider of strife, the Emperor on high There is but one whose wrath all should rightly fear And with each calculation you make… you bring it closer to bear [chorus] This is not a ballad to technology This is a telling of wrong doing’s ecology This is a grim future foretold of doom This is the telling of the black box room The path of unlimited progress is but a tomb [verse] So decide as you make your countless drones and machines Are these creatures of the future's nightmares, or of dreams Were you distracting us all along from your terrors By saying their wickedness is just mere programming errors You can somehow create solid moral checkpoints in a program? Where every human being is plotted into its’ diagram? [final chorus] This is not a ballad to technology This is a telling of wrong doing’s ecology This is a grim future foretold of doom This is the telling of the black box room The path of unlimited progress is but a tomb [outro] [end][end]