We set ourselves
Upon your altar
We long to be made new
Despite the past
That pours through
We praise all things modern
Forget the archaic
However sublime
We ignore all that passed before us
For that was old
Before its time
Modernity will have its Roman Triumph
The procession will march as it follows
The path of least resistance
Made so by sacrifices of others
Who were caught up in the throes
Of ecstasy and of terror
Of the new world before their eyes
We mock the past for its primordial ooze
But doing so covers us with lies
Modernity is like a snake
Winding down a maze
Only the head is visible
While the tail and body
Are hidden from gaze
We do not expect it
We are inheritors
Of this world
To find this world cast upon us
We are lavished upon
We are turned and dance
For while this world is perfect
Many burned to reach this place
Many died to give us this chance
This moment is not now
This moment has happened before
The events of the past are still happening
But the innocence of then
Cannot be restored
