No gleaming temple forever stands -
your fools lay beneath, beneath the shifting sands.
No endless darkness, no blinding light -
no treasured ideal, not one vice.
No sacred law, no holy command -
no final verdict to which we are damned.
No Armageddon, no final rest
and no paradise beyond our death.
For no word of the wise, no law benign
will ever change the wolf and the lion.
All revolution - all salvation,
never as they predict!
All solutions and all revelations
lead a path to conflict.
Not one penance, not one resolute -
not one confession, no matter how true.
No blood that is spilt or life cut short,
in the name of the father, the mother, the cause.
Utopia is dead!
So what remains as I walk through the ashes,
a trail of blood, our blood and our scars?
Well, our questions betray us - our hopes and our fears,
relinquish both and then you may hear.
No dream of the wise, no law benign
will ever change the wolf and the lion. |
