Lyrics:

Air currents grind, monotony
Image defined, static scene
Adherents bent opinionless
Following scent of commonness
Fit the latest rage
Whatever stains the page
Then fears allayed
Of lonely shade
Wheels, they grind...industry
Insipid finds, out of key
Opinions bent toward standard waves
Bleaching out divergent shades
Mock integrity
Veiled hypocrisy
Ironic finds
When selves descried
Ban expressiveness
Bold repressiveness
Dictated by minds closed tight
And walls that shut out light
And so we have static acts