This Or The Apocalypse - The Polymath

In conduits we drift apart
There is vastness within an all around us

Though we may deny ourselves the thought
That this was something real
I can finally say that I'm not dead yet
There are no chains
As tight as the search for something real
How they burn the skin of the vehement

Both last known bodies of matter, drifting into themselves
We're caught in the teeth of our temper
We are what we consume

You create what you are [x2]

Appeal, on which the ground you stand
Appeal, in the throes of death
Appeal, in a delirium of sleep
Appeal, for our strength is gone

Spoken by a man unbound
Taught beneath the hands in shackles

It has invited a scourge
What makes you think you give of anything at all?
The killer hides his face
The stoic waits his turn
We all had our chance

Both last known bodies of matter, drifting into themselves
We're caught in the teeth of our temper
We are what we consume

You create what you are [x2]

Apparitions show themselves deep within ruminative voice
It is man himself who speaks at length of wars that go unnoticed

And it is truly all you have [x2]

No blueprints
And it is truly all you have
No warning
And it is truly all you have