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A child is born in a cold clinical fog, somewhere outside your world.
A mother weeps the room gray, her baby is made of clay.
A child is buried, in the cold January earth.
Not one among the grieving is sure:
"Does he still breathe? Does he still breathe?
Oh, Freakseed, Oh Freakseed.
Do you still breathe? Do you still breathe?
You herald the fasces, sickeningly clean"
Miscreation! Miscreation!
A pussy-pink tree springs to life!
Miscreation! Miscreation!
Push the gravestone aside.
Miscreation! Miscreation!
Zeroes and ones hide the sky, Zeroes and ones hide the sky
Now, look at your child!
This tree bears fruit, our darling boy is alive.
With a 0 for a soul, and 1 thing in mind.
Upload the Dark New Messiah
Upload the Dark New Messiah
Upload the Dark New Messiah
Upload the Dark New Messiah.
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Miscreation (Unplugged)
03:57
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