Bede in his scriptorium.
A ligature,
A telescope.
The bathyscaphe descends five miles down.

One tear from each of his eyes smears history.
One page left to write he'll never witness,
One page left to write before the frozen dawn.
One page left to write he'll never witness,
One page left to write before the frozen dawn.

If I die tomorrow,
What difference the type I used?
What if these pages turn to dirt?
What are these words,
What are these words? (x2)

New books, as yet unwritten, let them say:
"All struggle now forgotten,
Don't you see this window of time to program
Amnesty, amnesty, oh..."

Not too late to re-write history,
Not too late to save ourselves.
Not too late to pull this species
Above, beyond, above, beyond! (x2)

It's not too late to re-write history,
Not too late to save ourselves.
Not too late to pull this species
Above, beyond, above, beyond and home.


Lyrics submitted by Quazalle

Colophon song meanings
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