Culture was the seed of proliferation

But it has gotten melded into an enharmonic whole

Consciousness has plagued us and we can not shake it

Though we think we're in control

Questions that besiege us in life

Are testament of our helplessness

"there's no vestige of a beginning,

No prospect of an end" (Hutton, 1795)

When we all disintegrate it will all happen again



Time is so rock solid in the minds of the hoards but they can't

Explain why it should slip away

History and future are the comforts of

Our curiosity but here we are

Rooted in the present day



If you came to conquer you'll be king for a day

But you too will deteriorate and quickly fade away

And believe these words you hear

When you think your path is clear



We have no control

We do not understand

You have no control

You are not in command!