There's a way that seems right unto mankind But therein lies the ways of death It takes a lot of trying to keep on denying Paupers and peasants, masters of jest
Unrealized, mortality thrives Finally gives way to the ending age No strength in numbers, wing left or right The Morning Light brings times decay
All our ways that seem so right Lay inside the ways of death All our trying and our denying Paupers and peasants, masters of jest