Wreck and Reference - A Lament Lyrics

Breaking up in tiny rooms, suckling on the teat of space.
In lucid fields Ive come to pass, in the bottle I do his face.
Mother, have we come to terms, when our insides become unlaced.
Knowing that itll come to this, the absolute nothing black of space.
Bloody trips in all the world, walled up here like theres a race.
Do walls mean we have mottled hearts? Our will continues on the rays.
Planets always moving out, spreading at a steady pace.
Spinoza, sorry, when fission stands, there wont be god, just blacker space.