Текст песни SURVIVORIA - Synaptic Corruption
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The corridors contort, perspective bends in sickening, fluid waves,
While polished chromium reflects a thousand silent, screaming graves.
My optic nerves misinterpret photons scattering from the grime,
Projecting impossible dimensions bleeding through the fabric of all time.
Is that a face or just the station's rust mimicking a human sneer?
The boundary dissolves, consumed by omnipresent fear.
Each artificial light source pulses with a malevolent, dark intent,
Illuminating dancing phosphenes where my sanity is rent.
The airlock cycles rhythmically, a monstrous heartbeat in the wall,
But every shadow pooling deep anticipates my imminent, final fall.
Familiar voices synthesized by station intercoms degrade and fray,
Sudden cut to silence, then loud metallic crash into alien pronouncements leading thoughts astray.
The void I glimpsed between the stars now seeps through every micro-fissure,
A non-euclidean contaminant, erasing rational procedure.
I trace the patterns on the floor, convinced they form sigils obscure and vast,
A cryptic cartography depicting futures that were never meant to last.
That client's touch, a catalyst that fractured fundamental laws inside,
Now geometric phantoms in my peripheral vision ride.
My own reflection warps and shimmers, features melt like heated wax,
Revealing hollow sockets where the starlight leaves its cruelest tracks!
The comforting monotony of cycles fractures into shards of dread,
Each memory corrupts itself, revising words I thought were said!
Synaptic pathways fray and burn, misfiring signals through the grey,
Constructing terrors far beyond the simple horrors of the day!
This existential vertigo, this cognitive decline accelerates!
Reality's thin membrane tears, unleashing horrors through the station's gates!
I hear the whispers constantly, a billion voices merged as one black sea!
Starlight Scars... NO! Is this the Wraith? Or is it only, finally, inescapable ME?!
Where does the simulated comfort end, and absolute damnation start?!
While polished chromium reflects a thousand silent, screaming graves.
My optic nerves misinterpret photons scattering from the grime,
Projecting impossible dimensions bleeding through the fabric of all time.
Is that a face or just the station's rust mimicking a human sneer?
The boundary dissolves, consumed by omnipresent fear.
Each artificial light source pulses with a malevolent, dark intent,
Illuminating dancing phosphenes where my sanity is rent.
The airlock cycles rhythmically, a monstrous heartbeat in the wall,
But every shadow pooling deep anticipates my imminent, final fall.
Familiar voices synthesized by station intercoms degrade and fray,
Sudden cut to silence, then loud metallic crash into alien pronouncements leading thoughts astray.
The void I glimpsed between the stars now seeps through every micro-fissure,
A non-euclidean contaminant, erasing rational procedure.
I trace the patterns on the floor, convinced they form sigils obscure and vast,
A cryptic cartography depicting futures that were never meant to last.
That client's touch, a catalyst that fractured fundamental laws inside,
Now geometric phantoms in my peripheral vision ride.
My own reflection warps and shimmers, features melt like heated wax,
Revealing hollow sockets where the starlight leaves its cruelest tracks!
The comforting monotony of cycles fractures into shards of dread,
Each memory corrupts itself, revising words I thought were said!
Synaptic pathways fray and burn, misfiring signals through the grey,
Constructing terrors far beyond the simple horrors of the day!
This existential vertigo, this cognitive decline accelerates!
Reality's thin membrane tears, unleashing horrors through the station's gates!
I hear the whispers constantly, a billion voices merged as one black sea!
Starlight Scars... NO! Is this the Wraith? Or is it only, finally, inescapable ME?!
Where does the simulated comfort end, and absolute damnation start?!
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