Corot - Orbit Culture

By break of day, the fields transformed

A feral roar from the depths of old

Iron canons rose before me

Heavens burned with their flame

Deliver me from the machine

The sorrows of man

The fall from our grace

Oh, let me lead them through searing and hell

Burning at last

By break of day, the fields transformed

The heaven’s red from the blaze of gods

Iron canons stood before me

Heavens burned with their flame

Let it rain

Rip the earth asunder

Razed to destruction

Deliver me from the machine

The sorrows of man

The fall from our grace

Oh, let me lead them through searing and hellish

Burning at last

By break of day, the fields transformed

A certain doom for organic life

Iron canons stood before me

Corot was ablaze

I’ll descend into their sphere to take their light

I resemble rage and ice, torment and their fears

Let them know