Lyrics:

Science has become a child's game.
There is no solution to bring away this plague. Move!
No remedies have been discovered.
The cure is a shotgun, the cure is whatever blunt instrument one can salvage.
Whomever finds themselves too proper will be the first to perish.
And you know nothing that matters now.
We cannot restore, restore, we cannot recover, recover: all is lost in the flood of the risen dead.
We cannot restore, restore, we cannot recover, recover: all is lost in the storm of the disgraceful.
The incurable bring us our punishment.
Today's destruction can only be measured in, in biblical, biblical proportion.
Let's go!
My will is at God's hand, never within man's teeth. x3
Always wanting more, never enough, until this day and age when there's nothing left. x2
Always wanting more, never enough.
We cannot restore, restore, we cannot recover, recover: all is lost in the flood of the risen dead.
We cannot restore, restore, we cannot recover, recover: all is lost in the storm of the disgraceful.
We cannot restore, restore, we cannot recover, recover: all is lost in the flood of the risen dead.
We cannot restore, we cannot recover: all is lost in the storm of the disgraceful.
We cannot restore, we cannot recover: all is lost in the flood of the risen dead.
We cannot restore, we cannot recover: all is lost.