| Eclipsed in the shadows of lifeless eyes | |
| A broken man stands shattered and cold | |
| Searching for a memory of home | |
| Although my number implies that search has ended | |
| A simulation may have spread and infected | |
| No sense of direction | |
| No sense of reflection | |
| Xenon defined | |
| In a world of unquestioned perfection | |
| How many lives were lost | |
| In completing this inhuman automation | |
| How many nations had to kneel | |
| To imbue such complacency | |
| In what is black and white | |
| No sense of direction | |
| No sense of reflection | |
| Xenon defined | |
| In a world of unquestioned perfection | |
| As if machine gods were buried | |
| Hold up the sky | |
| These towers like hands | |
| Hold up the sky | |
| My past is as empty | |
| As empty as the life in their eyes | |
| As if machine gods were buried | |
| Hold up the sky | |
| No sense of direction | |
| No sense of reflection | |
| Xenon defined | |
| In a world of unquestioned perfection |
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