Maniaq

(Jennings/Dorrian)
Lack-lustre vacuum magnetises the land, scopeless material in ruthless demand, concrete
spectacle superficially grand, divine animation buried in sand.
Chorus :
Wešll rise from the ashes of stagnation, crystal warriors of damnation.
Nullified grafters manufactured from the womb, out of the repro-clinic into household tomb.
Drag the nothing tiring through coal-dark underground, drive the wheels of iron round and
round.
Repeat chorus
Scouring eyes sear through that book of lies, and to the truth, well our search is dignified.
Whilst the yawny drone of physical machinery march in robot mode to terminal destiny.
Microscopic observance, forsaken innerland, spiritual inertia, absorbed in blanc, well our
significance shanšt sink in their charade, Rcos through their drab pantomine I say wešre
gonna ride !
Chorus

- Nie radze panu palic, pic alkoholu i... kochac sie. - mowi lekarz do pacjenta po ciezkiej chorobie.
Po dwoch miesiacach wstrzemiezliwosci mezczyzna nie wytrzymal i zapalil papierosa.
- No tak, palic to mozsz... - dogaduje zona.

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