I alone upon the highest cliff-top, looked down, around, and all I could see were those that I would love to share with crashing on quite to the sea.... I tried to ask game this was, but I would not play it: the voice, as one, as no-one, to me.... 'We have looked upon the and are found wanting; we looked hard across the land, but we can see no we have now to sear 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 except to go forward. ask us for an answer now, it's far too late to bow to convention. What course is there but to die? We looked 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 portal; can halt our final vault into the maw. And as the Elders their brows know it is really 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 we're not quite sure of?' cause is there left but to die? What cause is left but to die? cause is there left but to die? ...I don't know why... I know our ends may be but why do you make them Time may finally only the move her and no life in the quicksand. Yes I know Out of control, out of Greasy machinery on the rails, Young minds and bodies on steel impaled.... Cogs tearing bones, tearing bones: Iron-throated monsters are our screams, and machinery box-press the dreams. ...but there is time... are they who run today, the is beginning... no war knives, fight with our lives, can teach nothing; death no hope, we must grope for the answer: unite our blood, the flood, the disaster... there's other ways than screaming in the that us merely cogs of hatred. to the why and where we are, look to yourselves and the and in the end What choice is there left but to in the hope of our children's little ones? What choice is there but to choice is there but to live? What is there but to live? to the little ones? choice is there left but to try?