The corridors of power are dim, slimy and red,
huge snails are purring, tasting the bed.

Crushed bones beneath brittle as snow,
the children are gathering and having a go.

Where are we going? Same as before,
the ships are rotting inside the port.

Do you have a light? Light up!
The world is beneath the ocean now.

Whisper to the fishes all your desires, trust.
They know, they are growing the Leviathan.