Oh, my friend
Look at what we've built
A hermetic sanctuary
From all our pain and guilt
They say it comes in waves
The swell and the receding
As you and I both know
These weighted thoughts are never fleeting
This great exchange
(Who will proceed us)
Our egos displaced
(When we fade away)
Life rearranged
(To prove it's not pointless)
Providence interlaced
(So that we can stay)
You claim to be a martyr but your hands are far too clean
You claim to be a martyr but your hands are far too clean
These post-modern methods have done us all in
We've lost sight of the function, now where to begin?
