Laws were they down in the beginning of time
Did they decree a great cycle or instead a straight line
Who now remembers what was once handed down
In this flood of distraction must nobility drown
Where these stand now that the center gave way
What promess of hope comes forth with each day
Are the words just echoes of an angel of lie
Never inflating as the end draws nigh
Churning and churning in the widening gyre
Digging and wallowing in the thickening mire
Hard times, much whoredom
In dullness, slow pain, or frenzy boredom
Like those few who came before
I would know yet more
Who stands up right now, who walks on all fours
In this race with suicide, who’s keeping the score
While all gods have yet to play out their roles
What new ones will rise from the abyss of your souls
Have your ancestors all now withdrawn their hands
Theses words from your mouth can they still understand
What great tale is the end of man’s quest
And if no one knows, can they retrace our steps