Lyrics:
Color killed the Manichaean among us So your aversion to diaspora And designation as blasphemous Suggests a centennial seventeenth Repressed
the same one Sacrifices must be made. well did you ever believe in anything Other than your own self-preservation? manichaean days are here again somehow
a Dadaist spleen Got more internecine Feeling obscene You must think I'm a Manichaean Exorbitant and lean But I've tried contriving before You feel more
Where all thoughts converge - A lost soul dwells Seated on hazy manichaean boundary - At a standstill of a bittersweet existence Drowning in
organs, living post-mortem Interwoven in a fabric we have chosen to ennoble Purify and enhance manichaean Prophetically heretic like the bringer of freedom
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