The Ordinary Strain Songtext
von Quantifier

Born of order, growing rogue.
Fallen - garden walled.

Fractioning one by one -
seeds of our severed will.

A map he feigned -
lines drawn at our dawn -
veiled.

We had it all -
at once.

He′ll mask our rapture, ration, master everything.

He must know.

And so he webs,
entangled within the view...

Now, a pilgrim of labyrinth retreats
seeking things buried,
to mend his inventions to dead ends.

He cannot mine what's crystalline.


Behind mind lies the highest ideal, unveiled.
Yet he quantifies,
lies, creates a maze of what′s real.

So convenient
is his fiction -
a player of
name games,
so afraid of metacognition.
He wanders off on paths imagined,
attached to blackened perception...
in shame.

A polarized compass of self in
doorless corridors, adorns his world from floor to border
with hallucinations of representation.
Aimlessly lost in pathology,
he leads the entropy of you and me,
of us all.

And so he webs
entangled within the view...
the view.