| We don’t belong at these heights
|
| Watching over all
|
| We’ve come to the point of the obelisk
|
| Impaled as we fall
|
| Collapse under the weight of time
|
| In this still life of our design
|
| Collapse into a great resolve
|
| Everything falls
|
| A broken image reflects from a shattered surface
|
| Its shards of truth cut clean their meaning, our purpose
|
| A tearful dawn sheds light
|
| On what we have become
|
| We were not meant to live like this
|
| No life, no freedom
|
| A broken image reflects from a shattered surface
|
| Its shards of truth cut clean their meaning, our purpose
|
| To struggle, to glean, to want, to bleed
|
| We’ve bided time
|
| We’ve traveled to distant worlds
|
| On our quest for knowledge and power
|
| We’ve traced the galactic whorls
|
| And now full circle
|
| Unfulfilled by what we’ve seen
|
| This is it, one galaxy
|
| Out of the shadows, my silhouette is torn
|
| Freed from the darkness, I see my vile form
|
| Bleeding out from a spiral clade
|
| This is all I have
|
| This is all that I have
|
| To live, to die, to lose our pride
|
| To accept our fate
|
| Life is not ours to dictate
|
| Stagnation is death in a constitution of progress
|
| Now at the zenith there is nowhere left
|
| Nowhere left to go but down
|
| Ruling in the present while the future eludes us
|
| The further we push forward
|
| The harder it becomes to look back
|
| To struggle, to glean, to want, to bleed
|
| To live, we must die
|
| We live to die |