Murder! Man on fire. Murder! I've seen the eyes of living dead. It's the same game. Survival. The great mass play a waiting game. Embalmed, crippled, dying in fear of pain, all sense of freedom gone. Black sun in a white world. Like having a black son in a white world. I have a son, his name is eden. It's his birthright beyond estranged times. Give me 69 years, another season in this hell. It's all sex and death as far as eyes can tell. Like Prometheus we are bound, chained to this rock of a brave new world. Our god forsaken lot. And I feel that's all we've ever needed to know until worlds end and the seas run cold. Give me 69 years, another season in this hell. There is sex and death in mother nature's plans.