| [00:10.842] |
It's been a brutal existence |
| [00:16.617] |
For most |
| [00:21.959] |
This far |
| [00:27.999] |
We were clawing in the dirt |
| [00:34.283] |
We were dying in birth |
| [00:41.571] |
We were grinding grain in the noon day sun |
| [00:51.434] |
With madmen spitting bloody feathers to appease the demons |
| [01:01.993] |
Oh |
| [01:11.081] |
It's been a godless existence |
| [01:16.627] |
For some |
| [01:22.187] |
This far |
| [01:27.967] |
We were breaking bread |
| [01:34.751] |
In a brotherhood of men |
| [01:41.277] |
No, I can't recall a single memory of our universal past |
| [01:51.319] |
And I've never felt a drop of blood fall from beneath my singing ax |
| [02:01.875] |
Oh |
| [02:27.767] |
It's been a voiceless wilderness |
| [02:33.563] |
For most |
| [02:38.602] |
Of us this far |
| [02:44.897] |
And there's no prophet on the mount |
| [02:51.927] |
Whose words won't be drowned out |
| [02:58.971] |
By our locust fingers clicking neverending in our lapse |
| [03:08.259] |
We traded in divine inheritance to break our pagan masks |
| [03:18.567] |
Are there none who walk among us who remember what we had? |
