The problem is the answer

Silence hid behind the door and revealed itself more and more
Does the rhythm of life need a meaning?
How much are rules worth by themselves?
Should our quest be for a clause that claims to hold the essence of life

So many millions beautifully lost
Carried by rumor media and ego
Not a trim of truth, and the lie is a handshake and a pouch of narcotics
The escape is such a farce, flickers of being further inside than outside, shock the user

The devil licks the hands of time
As if the norns were on his tongue
The problem is the answer try to build a machine
One that replaces the conscience in world where the farce is mean

You may enjoy the good life the taste and the feel
You turn semi sincere, tears run off cheeks and you face a conclusion
A piece of the world disappears you take a step away from god
Remind me, not to judge those who judge with so much salt in their glands

So much venom hast thou grown scales?
doth thou blood flow cold?
Repeat the magic words of your order
The strong symbol of a death device

Give it a name
The answer doesn't shave evil from hair
doesn't anoint tired, jaded bodies trembling
He says be, be. God lives, god lives but understanding dies