Lathe of the stars, where they dine On the bones of men they admired, co-conspired For all that they have planned Obsolescence, greatest lessons You can't afford to miss Don't go quietly in the night sea You're too good for this
And we're sold for our salt Get your hands from my throat
Sign off the rights to your biggest fight That you can't commit to the long view as it drains through Lacquers wearing thin Convalescence needed presence You can achievе it yet Don't go quietly, 'cause you might bе The catalyst reset
And we're sold for our salt Get your hands from my throat And we're made from pre-owned Rip the wires, crash the core