The plans on the table pour liquid from the minds of endless madmen The myopic lobotomized hubris of a bodiless head that feeds itself with the invisible hands of miserable men soon the table will be submerged and the only thing left in the room (should we fail to bilge this insanity) will be our anoxiated swollen carcass and an empty hollow head like a chalice floating half-submerged in its own stagnant meningial fluid