Poet, priest, and visionary rallied to the call The will of humankind defied them all Coveting the gold and silver idols of success Only to perpetuate duress
Every king’s assassin waiting silently at bay Counting down until his holy day Artifacts of ancient wisdom buried in the sand Hastily upturned to clear the land
Now I ain’t going to claim to be the second son I love my follow man But I hate what he’s become And it goes on, and on, and on, and on, and on
To calculate the universe leads further from divine But can we comprehend all that we find? Artifacts of ancient wisdom buried in the sand Neglected and denied by us again
Now I ain’t going to cast the first stone, you see I love my follow man And I love what he could be But it goes on, and on, and on, and on, and on