Unsung (Coda)

I commit blasphemy, put a dent in history
I'll see this blasted timeline is put to death

To them it's alchemy
At the edge of fantasy
Occupying their beloved odds is what we do

To them we're no more than lost profligates
Until we descend to change the world

I wish to bid farewell and depart this mortal shell
Make the cut and bleed out what's trapped inside

I detest reality
And its boundless apathy
What untold madness drives you to see it through

To them we're no more than lost profligates
Until we descend to change the world