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we celebrate the cultures that we kill they are a roadside toursit trap when they should be an institution our science, that has poisoned us on the inside and out has created more fear than any vengeful primitive god our science, which we have accepted so whole-hearted, forces us to define what truly is a great mystery we reach out but we lack the embrace and we long for the embrace there is no embrace Letras de cancioneswe have counted high we revel in the kill the improv culture kill in the land of the great spirit we sit so comatose we live beyong, we dream beyong we do not know what is lost symbols of generations died, forced to be bought and sold this is the land, this is the land this is your land we have counted high we revel in the kill the improve culture kill its the end, the heat of night our most solemn mystery its the end, the heat of dance our most solemn mystery our most solemn mystery From Letras Mania