(Evans)
Mechanic divination essay
From a century ago
The soaring towers of this age
And the industry below
The saline
Waters that arise
Are the ultimate beginning
Are the quintessential end
The end…
Dolphins play on the horizon
As they frolic with their pods
Dancing silent hymns of praise
To Poseidon and the gods
The answers
Are not found in pagan kings
The light of Heaven yet burns bright
Till the coming of the night
The night…
Centuries of progress
Have not made us tools
If we wash ashore blank-minded
No one calls us fools
Washed up in the tides
Knee deep in our lives
Listening to the cries
Of shorebirds washed up
In the tidal pools
Coastal churning, oil burning
The oceanic set routine
Men are slaving on the shorefront
Still mammals, less marine
Colossus
Used to stand above the sea
Now he’s dreaming in the depths
Now he’s sleeping with the shells
The shells…
Cities sinking into shorelines
By the altar of the waves
Workers digging in the sand
But they only dig their graves
Rhythmatic
Doesn’t begin to describe
All the nothing and the gears
All the salt and all the dreams
The dreams
Centuries of progress
Have not made us tools
If we wash ashore blank-minded
No one calls us fools
Washed up in the tides
Knee deep in our lives
Listening to the cries
Of shorebirds washed up
In the tidal pools
Saxton: Lead Vocals
Lox: Lead Guitar
Young Savage: Keyboards
Bondorew: Ebow Guitar
Franchina: Bass
Spam: Drums