The Devil Wears Prada Reptar, King of the Ozone

Bring it to your lips and
experience the sulfur infect
everything that we've created.
Don't twist this around.

Don't attempt to justify
what we know is wrong.
Tendons are torn and screams are released
into a poisoned, mathematic atmosphere.

We're composing our funeral songs,
note... (NOTE!) note by note (BY NOTE!) x2

With this I declare that
tomorrow is an allusion.

What if the clouds
are fragments
of mistakes,
fabricated
by the factories
of our foolish-ness?
FOOLISHNESS

We're composing our funeral songs,
note... (NOTE!) note by note (BY NOTE!) x2

Prove me wrong x3