Lyrics:

Blackest art is what we deal
Drawing chalk lines in our kitchen
Targeting occult alleles
We'll catalyze our mother's fission

The room is burning and we're still here
We aree a circle of fourteen arms
Even as windows bend
We are a tear in the math of ice
A saddle aback the cold shell of the terrapin

Over, I've done all I can do
To unvenomize so you can see this through

Now, finally, the maker mends us
Furnishes a blood decanter
Five and eighty-five rememories arrest
Furrowings along the middle parts attest to this

The room is burning and we're still here
We are a circle of fourteen arms
Even as window panes bend
We are a tear in the math of ice
A saddle aback the cold shell of the terrapin

Over, I've done all I can do
To unvenomize so you can see this through