Never Let Go Of The Microscope

Like Socrates I only graze on the slopes Of the summit of my own ignorance Like Hippocrates I can affirm that the method of science Is an appliance that emancipates us from dogma And slant And bias (The seasons are changing) (Ah, the seasons are changing)

The velocities at which we now evolve Mean we got to dissolve unchecked tradition But atrocities go untouched under the guise of culture Committed on another mind another heartbeat Heartbeat Heartbeat (The seasons are changing) (Ah, the seasons are changing)

I've got a sinking feeling I've got a sinking feeling I've got a sinking feeling I've got a sinking feeling

Like Sophocles we now wield the paintbrush So keep a tight grip on a magnifying glass Our priorities now that we hold the torch Mean we got to hold it high to illuminate the dark And archaic And vile (The seasons are changing) (Ah, the seasons are changing)

I've got a sinking feeling I've got a sinking feeling I've got a sinking feeling I've got a sinking feeling

I've got a sinking feeling I've got a sinking feeling I've got a sinking feeling I've got a sinking feeling

I've got a sinking feeling I've got a sinking feeling I've got a sinking feeling I've got a sinking feeling

We swear allegiance to no one We swear allegiance to no one

We'll never let go of the microscope No matter how callous the shells

We'll harness the heat of the sun And we'll burn you out of fucking existence