Lyrics The Weary Wheel - Son of Aurelius

The Weary Wheel

The streamline will carry on
Far beyond our lives
The temple crumbles into dust
Designed by action
Spinning slender threads
That weave between the walls
Now is the vestige
Of a future far to come
Running in the treads
Of exercised experience with
The answers placed before us
By our own mistakes
Mice in the lab
With minimal reaction
To greater woes and the
Throes of our brethren before us
The end seems ever imminent
Like a long announced instant
Of a flash that wraps us up in dust
And descends as fast as it arose
Alas, this is just wanton hope
Bans to stay the hands of men
From grasping high at desperate threads
That taunt them until they realize
They’ve got only each other to stand on
Complacent is the age
In a place whose strength
Is shaped by the anger of those
Desperate for change
But unable to make it
Take a place
Or remain drowning in the waves
Of the greater
We’ve limited our freedom and called it contraband
Do not reach for me in faith, you’ll be cut off at the hand