I stood alone the highest cliff-top, looked down, around, and all that I see were those that I would dearly to share with on quite blindly to the sea.... I tried to ask what game was, but knew I not play it: the voice, as one, as no-one, to me.... 'We have looked the heroes and are found wanting; we have hard across the land, but we can see no we now dared to sear the sky, but we are still we are near to the cliffs, now we can the call. The are piled in mountain-shapes, there is no except to go forward. Don't ask us for an now, it's far too late to bow to convention. What course is left but to die? We looked upon the High Kings, found less than mortals: their names are dust the just of our young, new law. Minds stumbling strong, we on into the dark No-one can our final vault the unknown maw. And as the Elders beat brows know it is really far too late now to stop us. For if the sky is death what is the point in breath?...Expel it! What is there left but to die in search of something we're not quite sure What cause is there left but to What cause is left but to die? What cause is left but to die? ...I don't know why... I our ends may be soon but why do you make sooner? Time may finally only the move her and no lies in the quicksand. Yes I it's Out of control, out of Greasy slides on the rails, Young and bodies on steel spokes impaled.... Cogs tearing bones, tearing bones: monsters are forcing our screams, Mind and box-press the dreams. ...but still is time... are they who run today, the is beginning... no war with knives, fight our lives, lemmings can teach death offers no hope, we grope for the unknown unite our blood, the flood, the disaster... there's other than screaming in the mob: that us merely cogs of hatred. to the why and where we are, look to and the stars and in the end What choice is there left but to in the hope of our children's children's little What choice is there but to choice is there but to live? What choice is but to live? to the little ones? What choice is left but to try?