Die In Your Own Cathedral

At the end of history we let go of man’s memory
Closed the garbage factory, cleaned the filthy sensory
I shook the dead hand of the past, haunted by the future forecast
When you look up at a star, know it’s dead and not too far from dead shit like common dreams, fits right in with common themes

Threw up, cleaned up, put on makeup
Now you think you are all grown up?

At the end of history there’s a new beginning
We burnt the crematory, right along with old glory
Laughed at pre-history and then wrote a new story