Automata 1980

Flowing thick the rivers bleed, erupt into the void
The yearning seas, grim and oblique, denounce their vapid toy
Lava will shape this sparking dead abode
The gnawing black, the knowing dark will map out all the code
The frames ahead that loom in dread like blades sever the cord
Their concave teeth will fold beneath the path of mercury
None will paint this sinewy abode
A canvas stark for spectral art, he knows

None will paint this sinewy abode
The blood fantastic flowing waters its remains

Blood will turn to mercury on its path to avarice and glide
Sands will turn to mercury so time can poison everything and die