"Imago" as written by and Cedric/rodriguez Bixler....
My anguish told you
A persistent lie

The parasitic psychics that you push by wheel
Were spoken to me everytime

And like a charlatan
You counterfeit the vessels through flesh and time

These pacts we keep in secret
Drinking from a well that was cured by drought

My torment adores you
When my strings are tied

Out of compulsion I must decimate
The sapless embryonic miles

And like a charlatan
You counterfeit the vessels through flesh and time

These pacts we keep in secret
Drinking from a well that was cured by drought

My knives are burrowed voices
Glistened by the handles so they won't let go

These limbs are out of reaches
Extensions of a spirit that is not controlled

My heart is trapped inside
And I refuse to accept this throne

My night's unfolding
Reads like a page of test results

This sterile codex
Is missing all my last resolve

And like a charlatan
You counterfeit the vessels through flesh and time

These pacts we keep in secret
Drinking from a well that was cured by drought


Lyrics submitted by relaxeder

"Imago" as written by Omar Rodriguez Cedric Bixler

Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

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Imago song meanings
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  • +1
    General CommentProbably my favorite song off the new album.
    TheFourthHouseon March 22, 2012   Link
  • 0
    My InterpretationThis is one of my favourite songs. I always come back to it when I'm lost spiritually, because (and it can still be interpreted in a lot of ways) it's about those nights when you're due to realise how you can't actually do anything in this world. The only spindle of life ("the sapless embryonic miles") that you're holding onto is your heart, left to last in a corporeal cage ("My heart is trapped inside, and I refuse to accept this throne"), while you would better keep these countless thoughts to yourself, otherwise even they would lose meaning and nobody would understand you ("My knives are burrowed voices, glistened by the handles so they won't let go"). And when the night is over, you're bound to return to your usual psyche, tired, thinking back about how useless this was in the first place ("My night's unfolding, reads like a page of test results: this sterile codex is missing all my last resolve").
    Tadakichion July 24, 2016   Link

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