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BEING - Arrival - 11 - The Singularity (Terrans I) | Текст песни

The Singularity (Terrans I):

The Terran:

Imagine a drifting seed, At the whim of the current it sees,
Vast distances, lands, and seas, Only able to capture what it,
Seizes upon, leading it on, Forever gone,
Breathing on, until the, current's gone, Forever gone.
Imagine the body alive, Senses driving the animal live,
Through the air, land, and sea they arrive, Yet its only through others that they keep,
Thriving on, though they, are gone, Forever gone,
Subsiding on, all the, life withdrawn, Forever gone.

The Cosmist:

Imagine sentient existence that we know,
All through our own experiences,
The only whims, (The Terrans: “We're thrust upon“),
We aren't condemned, (The Terrans: “To carry on“),
All the variables that we now rely on,
(The Terrans: "Just can't compare"),
To the variables that we all belie on,
(The Terrans: "Still unaware"),
The inevitably opening eyes will see...

The Terrans:

Control is a bitter illusion, Despite whatever our conclusion,
We must all abide, By the wind and the tide.

The Cosmists:

Though the winds will go their separate ways, I find,
Myself being pulled apart in ways, aligned,

The Cosmist:

To colors blind, so uninclined,
To bear in mind, I'm unconfined,
This time!
The variables become, An infinite unending spectrum,
So then do we just succumb, Or do we pursue the total sum?

The Cosmists:

In our little lives, We are all pursuing meaning,
Rarely it arrives, Without one of us intervening, it.
So step, Out of my way now,
If anything, I'll intervene, On anything, That I can glean,
My hands around, These hands around.
Thought I, Represent a “how“,
We're progressing, Life spreading wing, Still what we bring, Is anything,
But common ground, No common ground...

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