What is left, cannot be salvaged This dying faith in a dead god What is left, a false history
The way the world has turned Paralleled and forced on us
Sending chills through the ages An endless pain that yearns to forget Reminder of our fragility Ever persuaded and pushed into corners Always looking for the reasons to settle
We stand, divided and still Not moving with the pattern of the fools Content with sensory assurances Not looking forward to uncertainty