We were seeded 
 By a mother culture 
 Children of genius 
 That have stalled into ignorance. 
 The writings on the wall 
 Spell out a surprising past. 
 We only decipher them 
 To be primitive artistic rash. 

 God dies when the churches rise 
 He was born when the ancient astronauts arrived 
 The heavens exist and our maker is there, 
 Death is not the way to visit, technology is our only prayer

 The gods left behind,
 We're just scorned upon when appealed
 They are the maps to our existence 
 That are soon to be revealed 
 The writings on the wall 
 Spell out a surprising past. 
 We only decipher them 
 To be primitive artistic rash. 

 God dies when the churches rise 
 He was born when the ancient astronauts arrived 
 The heavens exist and our maker is there, 
 Death is not the way to visit, technology is our only prayer

 Not ready to be the grateful slaves of the state

 God dies when the churches rise 
 He was born when the ancient astronauts arrived 
 The heavens exist and our maker is there, 
 Death is not the way to visit, technology is our only prayer