Testo: VII Arcano. Inner Deathscapes. Echo Calling.

Nobody knows where the edge of knowledge marks
No one will ever enter the realm of subconsciousness
Just trying to show how intense is nakedness
And how futile can be complexity

Do really the blind leads the blind?
Unveiling from the nonsense voices
Too busy to give not worth meanings
To what seems to be the reaching key

Shut down words to hold back the pure
Inner screams from this living lure

Intense drama fills the hour
Pathetic rhymes just to show what's ours

Flowing pain painted as red
Realizing you're as good as dead!
Too busy to give not worth meanings
To what seems to be the reaching key

Shut down words to hold back the pure
Inner screams from this living lure

Collapse for superstition of truths
Terminal contradiction thought disease
Self-killing action in mind control
Is the ultimate screen on the calling of my echo