The pulsing fog, it sends me deeper Quickly to a place I'd rather not be The rise of life, it's growing steeper It strips my eyes so I cannot see The pulsing fog, I'm yet to escape Hanging in prison for crimes of lust The rapture of screens, the cult of rape My time in here is due and just The pulsing fog, it's killed my meter Ensemble of nine, to hell with all And I'll just hope and pray that I rhyme And hope the worms, remember my time