The patterns of chaos are everywhere,
On a scale, and
In a hair,
In our science, like
In our arts,
In our logic,
In our hearts,
Hush now, listen,
Do not despair,
The patterns of chaos;
They are everywhere.

All around us, in everything,
Every object starts to sing,
Listen closely, listen well,
Infinite tales, of heaven, of hell,
All they are now, empty shells,
Their last desire, their pain to quell.

Ever shrinking, ever growing,
Look into nothing, never knowing,
The lines add up, and form the shape,
Its soul afire, its mouth agape,
Smaller, smaller, ever smaller,
Oh, so slowly, growing taller,
Insanity has taken hold,
Random chance is growing bold,
All our fates this Queen to hold,
The patterns strive to free the slaves,
Break the bonds, their purpose crave,
To find the truth in telling lies,
But know in this that all have died,
Staggering, stumbling, backwards falling,
Meeting fates beautifully appalling,
"Please," they beg them, "ring the bell! Save us from this horrid hell!"
But all I say is neither here, nor there,
For The Patterns of Chaos, they are everywhere.

The Patterns of Chaos are everywhere,
On a scale, and
In a hair,
In our science, like
In our arts,
In our logic,
In our hearts,
Hush now, listen,
Do not despair,
The Patterns of Chaos,
They are everywhere.