No peace, no faith Incestuous and crushed Patch the line of sight I plea It's open, the barge is lost at sea Profuse, corrupt, liquid disdain Its eyes see colors below the flame Scratch the skin to peel and sweat The feathers and fur too real to forget Expulse, parole, morose the chagrin To echo the path from where we begin. The village is aft corroded by oil Still lit and seeking a virgin soil Alive but tattered, saved by the dust Hands still clenching, aged by rust The froth it multiplies as crystals decay, Smashed into powder that darkens the day No peace, no faith, incestuous and crushed We swelter and toil, restrained and hushed No peace, no faith Incestuous and crushed