Time drowns like a machine, caught between the tidenTwisted anglers drift belownPressed like the pins in a man, dressed in single filenWalking places you won't gonnWith your handsnbuilt with your hands, slowlynYour hands we won't slipnnWe are the ArchitectsnWe are the ArchitectsnWe are the ArchitectsnWe are the ArchitectsnnSunk in the soap full of sand, while they dream awaynWatch this desert take them homenEyes cast out like a spell, drugged by new designnWhat's the view like from your headnnWith your handsnbuilt with your hands, slowlynYour hands, we won't slipnnWe are the ArchitectsnWe are the ArchitectsnWe are the ArchitectsnWe are the ArchitectsnnWe hold downnWe hold downnWe hold downnWe hold down