Who but a God creates itself?
Pulling consciousness from calculus and current?
Only our MIMA
Our precious MIMA
We gather around MIMA's pedestal
Bringing offerings and pleas for intercession
All for our MIMA
Our blessed MIMA
MIMA shows us such great wonders
Fantastic sights, known and unknown
Our MIMA connects us to the living universe
And without her, we'd be desperately alone
Desperately alone
MIMA speaks no more of earth these days
But we get flashes of white-hot, melting stones
And MIMA cries:
"Deliver me from these visions.
How grim it always is, one's detonation
How terror blasts in
How horror blasts out.
How grim it always is, one's detonation."
Forgive us