Migraine of man The pressure The illness Pain, again. Pain, again. Swell... Ebb... Swell... Ebb... We're pulling the chords of the web. Thread by thread, we take what we can get. Push. Pull. Play the fool. Pain. Pain Pain 'til it splits Man never quits. Pierce. Blind. Stoke the sky. Take. Burn. Multiply. We feed the mouth that eats the ground, then wonder why the silence sounds. Swell... Ebb... Swell... The web remembers every pull. How much can a body bear before it forgets it's alive? How much can the earth give before giving becomes goodbye? Pain. We call it progress, So much need. We just plunder, too much greed. But underneath the noise we make... ...something aches. Swell... dread... Swell... Dead... Migraine of man... on the planet. We are the illness. [SOFT FADE]
