The world we think that we've created
A work that is perfection woven
Is not ours to brag upon
We are not the chosen
We are the children of death
If we aspire
It is to strip mine the world
And leave nothing behind
Frozen in time
We believe
We are fated to be ordained by gods
Or become the gods
Being genius and being wise
As having systems perfectly wrought
But we are fools
Who see the ship sinking
And we fight over the definitions
Of just what it was we did
That invited such catastrophic idiocy
Instead of seeing disaster which looms
These ridiculous battles fought
Leave us drained from being able to see
Just what a fool's paradise
We allowed to be built
We argue over truth that isn't
Ignoring the approaching doom
By our disasters we create droughts
And leave emptiness behind us
As the path we have decided
Will be blessed by our presence
Over
And over
Again
