I stood alone the highest cliff-top, looked down, around, and all I could see were that I would dearly love to share with crashing on quite to the sea.... I tried to ask what this was, but knew I would not it: the voice, as one, as no-one, to me.... 'We have looked upon the and they are wanting; we have looked hard the land, but we can see no we have now dared to the sky, but we are bleeding; we are near to the cliffs, now we can the call. The are piled in mountain-shapes, is no escape except to go forward. Don't ask us for an now, it's far too late to bow to convention. What is there left but to die? We have looked upon the Kings, found them less than their names are dust before the of our young, new law. Minds strong, we hurtle on into the portal; No-one can halt our vault the unknown maw. And as the Elders beat their know that it is really far too now to stop us. For if the sky is death is the point in catching breath?...Expel it! What cause is there but to die in search of something we're not quite sure cause is there left but to die? What cause is there but to die? What is there left but to die? ...I really know why... I know our may be soon but why do you make them Time may finally only the living her and no life in the quicksand. Yes I it's Out of control, out of Greasy slides on the rails, Young minds and on steel spokes impaled.... tearing bones, cogs tearing bones: Iron-throated monsters are our screams, and machinery box-press the dreams. ...but there is time... Cowards are who run today, the is beginning... no war with knives, with our lives, lemmings can nothing; death no hope, we must grope for the answer: our blood, abate the flood, the disaster... there's other than screaming in the mob: that makes us merely of hatred. Look to the why and we are, look to yourselves and the and in the end What choice is there but to live in the of saving our children's little ones? What choice is but to live? choice is there but to live? What is there but to live? to save the ones? What is there left but to try?