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!
