Audio Pono

Charged and on the wing

Unperturbed and cackling

A covey of fledglings

Thwart the pitchfork and the torch

Take into the lost account that fuels the head to raise the dead

Honor sits the monolith on wretched beams, it hurts to see

We built it up until it swallowed what surrounds, so i ask instead:

Could you break it down?

And the housecat tactics

Let us live outside

And the small sedition

Helped us think for ourselves

Born enclosed, we were cast by those foreign hands

The heavy weight which owns our name it masquerades

We felt this sinking dark feeling then and now

At least i can feel the ghost in the gears somehow

Child of red handed wicked grins for the win

Straight to the point and ripe with compulsion

Eulogized but swollen with life

I think i can see his ghost with my gears in flight

Take into the lost account that fuels the head to raise the dead

Honor sits the monolith on wretched beams, it hurts to see

We built it up until it swallowed what surrounds, so i ask instead:

Could you break it down?

Could you break it down?

Could you break it down?