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SPIRAL ARCHITECT LYRICS

A Sceptic

"A Sceptic's Universe" (2000)

1. Spinning
2. Excessit
3. Moving Spirit
4. Occam's Razor
5. Insect
6. Cloud Constructor
7. Conjuring Collapse
8. Adaptability
9. Fountainhead







1. Spinning

Inner sense lost in a stream
Another day faking control
Alone, still living an introspective lie
Cut adrift, in constant motion
Roaming never ending oceans

Bleeding poets cry, hands to the sky
Their quest was one of futility
I know man's lost in cosmic settings of coincidence
Just spinning, twisting, circling on...

Manipulate my mind, I don't mind
the kind of lie to subdivide, petrify, dehumanize

Manipulate your mind, would you mind
the kind of lie to subdivide, petrify, dehumanize

I will deny, I still deny, I will deny all
These truths were all yours
I refused them as mine

Manipulate my mind, I don't mind
the kind of lie to subdivide, petrify, dehumanize

Man manipulates man's mind
Should they mind the kind of lie
to subdivide, petrify, dehumanize

Spinning, twisting, circling on




2. Excessit

Lost in an orbit ride,
climb onto your highest mountain,
find the fountain
Wandering through shadows, on and on
Climb on higher find the fountain

Fall into spirals of condemnation
And sacrifice your past to the fountain
Know not how to get away from yourself

Riding through the path of totality surfing hypersonic jets
Equation of time

Tracking golden spirals, contained within primordial seeds
Reincarnation of your self

Fall into overdrive,
climb onto your highest mountain,
find the fountain
Wandering through shadows, on and on in despair

Your death shroud enters your mind,
disguised as virginity
Trapped in perverted rites

Young child's subverted mind
Sheds its atmosphere
Modus in rebus est




3. Moving Spirit

Shallow minds tighten the grip
Killing the last of the poets
He fell down to his knees
And drowned in the cold concrete flow

I long for what's untouched by man
I will dismiss answers based on nothing-ground
I forge dreams to uncoil

I long for what's untouched by man
I even seek answers where they may not be found
I roam these virgin soils

Atlas shrugged, I could feel
Clouds fell from the mourning sky
They're closing all too soon
All too soon

Leaders of crowds turned stale, unfit to move
Pathetic freaks endorse dream deceivers
Antique festered minds
Reduced to mock desire

Those who create should not corrupt their voice
Hyped is the feeble imitator
Seek and you will find
Beauty to be denied

Bleeding moving spirit
Man bleed the moving spirit dry
Bleed the moving spirit
Man, they bleed the moving spirit... dry




4. Occam's Razor




5. Insect

Bliss torn, transition incomplete
As fall entombed their mother sphere
Bent to the sky, artificial eye

Crushed, nature moans, enlightened
Drained was the heart of man
Insects spawning, hybrids crawling
In spinning cluster skies we're soaring

I've seen tomorrow sun die
into the darkness skies
But as poisoned seeds and acid rot the earth
We will fly into exile

Oh, morituri te salutant
Defier of the Night
Fierce adulterers
What's the destination
of their selfish search?

Forced into spiral alterations
The coils of pain
Hybrids crawling
in spinning cluster skies we're soaring
They've got reconcile
Their cause is unpure
The poor invest in stolen grace




6. Cloud Constructor

Life as it seemed to the circling man
As he gazed into discarded land
Was a ride on a carousel of faith
Then he flew away

He travelled far through his worn out mind
Through sorrow and pain, what had he gained?
Still his dreams they could never take away
So he flew into the sun again

Emptiness struck as he realized
There's no answer to "who am I? what am I?"
He then saw why men must construct for themselves
A cloud of Unknowing




7. Conjuring Collapse

Conclude with error, idiosycratic deeds
Synthetic habitat
Comprehension. Consciousness. All senses are astray
Infected selfish greed

Unpleasant frame of mind,
reflections of what's behind
Wisdom breeds fragile minds

Wake from his fantasy. Fear mendacious empathy
Ecstatic biased sphere
We are the plaintive race, constructors of predestined decay
A paragon fails

Force of fiction, faking formula of faith
A chameleon with words
Uncertain factors feed a mind so crystal clear
When will this circle end?

Mankind falls from what it breeds
Cast reflections on it's ego's path
Altered minds in altered settings, twisted mind
Collapse into intensity, understand the face of man

Everlasting hunt for truth,
blinded by different views
See through obstructive haze,
and cleanse the human race!
Mankind falls from what it breeds
Conjuring collapse with this ego's path
Altered minds in altered settings made by man
Collapse into intensity. Aftermath of thinking man




8. Adaptability

Words, all words worth nothing with you
Mistaken meaning, a constantly spreading,
dreaded dark disease
Truth itself untrue to those who stop to think
Fluently fluid, subjectively in sync

Central ego, orbital estranged reality
The remainder of a dream enter the dead

Linguistic obstacles abort
The thoughts behind
distort all which was once clear like purest air

Knotted tongues tied up by missing, mocking syllables
Lacklustre soliloquies performed in
solipsism's shrines of shallow sentiments
Look at my words, nothing besides remains
All the wisdom, all our colossal thoughts
Boundless but blind the grand idea astray
No universal thought-patterns will apply
Intentions abused and lost along the way

Always in motion
Circling a notion (of fixed unchangeability)
Truth itself untrue to those who stop to think
Fluently fluid, subjectively in sync

Central ego, orbital estranged reality
The remainder of a dream enter the dead




9. Fountainhead

Crave for no more, nor the self that would
Not even that which always is there
Needy of naught, but to be constrained
From any care and want of a selfish urge

What is needed save strengthened will of man
Fulfilment of all that is latent within
What is to fear, what do they hate?
How can they even bear to look at themselves
Those who love to crawl?

Near breaking point
From the bows you've made
Towards the constructed
Deity's power

Reverence due,
not to unseen mights
nor lack of clarity,
but to the well-known, familiar
ever present miracle of the

I, Fountainhead of... progress

How can anyone with serious integrity
abandon all that's left for me
and still be free to seek what's real?
Where's the logic thought,
the one thing that should be guide our way
throughout this solitary state that we call life?

Where's the I, Fountainhead of progress?

 


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