Laws were laid down, in the beginning of time.
Do they decree a great cycle, or instead a straight line?
Who now remembers, what was once handed down?
In this flood of distractions, must nobility drown?
Where do you stand, now that the center gave way?
What promise of hope comes forth with each day?
Are the words just echoes of an age-old lie?
Ever inflating, as the end draws nigh?
Churning and churning in the widening gyre,
Digging and wallowing in the thickening mire.
Hard times; much whoredom.
Endured in slow pain, or frenzied boredom.
Like those few who came before,
I would know yet more
Who stands up right now?
Who walks on all fours?
In this race with suicide, who's keeping the score?
What old Gods have yet to play out their roles?
What new ones will rise from the abyss of your souls?
Have your ancestors all now withdrawn their hands?
Theses words from your mouths, can they still understand?
What, pray tell, is the end of man's quest?
And if no one knows, can we retrace our steps?
Churning and churning in the widening gyre,
Digging and wallowing in the thickening mire.
Hard times; much whoredom.
Endured in slow pain, or frenzied boredom.
Like those few who came before,
I would know yet more
Churning and churning in the widening gyre,
Digging and wallowing in the thickening mire.
Hard times; much whoredom.
Endured in slow pain, or frenzied boredom.
Like those few who came before,
I would know yet more
Churning and churning in the widening gyre,
Digging and wallowing in the thickening mire.
Hard times; much whoredom.
Endured in slow pain, or frenzied boredom.
Like those few who came before,
I would know yet more