I stood alone upon the cliff-top, looked down, around, and all that I see were those that I would dearly love to with crashing on quite to the sea.... I tried to ask game this was, but knew I not play it: the voice, as one, as no-one, to me.... 'We have looked upon the and are found wanting; we have hard across the land, but we can see no we have now dared to the sky, but we are still we are drawing to the cliffs, now we can the call. The are piled in mountain-shapes, there is no escape to go forward. Don't ask us for an now, it's far too to bow to that convention. course is there left but to die? We have upon the High Kings, them less than mortals: their names are before 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 beat their brows know that it is far too late now to stop us. For if the sky is seeded what is the in catching breath?...Expel it! cause is there left but to die in search of something we're not sure of?' cause is there left but to die? What is there left but to die? What cause is there but to die? ...I don't know why... I know our may be soon but why do you make sooner? Time may prove the living move her and no life in the quicksand. Yes I it's Out of control, out of machinery slides on the rails, Young minds and on steel spokes impaled.... Cogs tearing bones, cogs bones: Iron-throated monsters are our screams, and machinery box-press the dreams. ...but still is time... Cowards are who run today, the is beginning... no war with knives, with our lives, can teach nothing; death no hope, we must grope for the answer: our blood, abate the flood, the disaster... there's ways than screaming in the mob: that makes us cogs of hatred. Look to the why and we are, to yourselves and the stars and in the end What choice is there but to live in the hope of our children's children's ones? What choice is but to live? What choice is there but to What choice is but to live? to save the little What choice is there but to try?