Tearing at the Fabric of Consciousness

The claws are deep into the backs, of the slaves among the living
Torn from the womb of consciousness, cast out, so unforgiving
In his hands he holds the world, in his hands we are resisting
The dreamer tears a hole into the fabric our being
We will find a way outside, we will find a way, we’re leaving The dead will rise against the scars of time, forever ripping