Gods and men, conquerors and slaves Technology is the future, building the end Man is a puppet whose future shall be dust While written and as you read, we are aware The shortest straws are from endless piles Reality and imagination walk the same path Fools enslaved themselves in wish Boundaries and chains (are for the weak) The future, brightness turns to grey One mind will decide, before wealth we will obey Wings to the makers, fire of the will Those who live in pray, silently they'll fade The shortest straws are from endless piles Reality and imagination walk the same path Fools enslaved themselves in wish Boundaries and chains (are for the weak) All of us are sinners, entering our last room Halfway to afterlife, before the end begins