The Creator who is the cause of the Creator I didn't get a revelation punch after punch If you can't sculpt it like an excavator, you have to dynamite it and blow it up Drink a cup of tea in the bay, less brewed and open Scatter with a nack His head is awash syllables Evidence collected from the ground All the steps of Yeksin in the spotlight Adjusted perceptions win the good ones He is slipping cheese in the clutches of the ignorant pincer Those who respect the power of nature have hope, the hopes of the next generation Your worries can't be dissented from in the grave Dispose of the game console To deliver a living planet clean that should be given from the past to the future Give yourself enough around Overcome your arrogance Come to my workbench Know your rank I'll come to your rescue Sign from each arm