| In a strange gallery, an old man’s work takes form
|
| Illuminated by a candle, his visions light the dome
|
| In a sea of immortals, his soul will be sown
|
| As the universe will be pleased to welcome its new son
|
| Four species were his prey
|
| In the fields of the odds, from the world of unknown
|
| Took the blood out of their bodies
|
| And had the purest goal, to blend it with his own
|
| The alchemist’s work is done
|
| To procreate without a form
|
| And his death had been mourned
|
| The creatures are left on their own
|
| In the valley near their father’s corpse
|
| No language they ever learn
|
| No answers spoken from the icon
|
| Not a word
|
| The death of their creator left them mutated
|
| A look in their eyes shows the beast inside
|
| Alone they would’ve built, together they destroy
|
| And duality begins to possess their minds
|
| Soul alike, they will fight until the end of their lives
|
| For democracy, hypocrisy, democracy, hypocrisy
|
| Demon’s creation
|
| They’re in for war and they set for Vietnam
|
| If they don’t try to accept others' differences
|
| In any situation, they’re in for religion, inquisition
|
| To live and to kill under new institutions
|
| In any way
|
| The fact the gifts they received from the sage
|
| Are the will to decide of what’s wrong or right
|
| And the need to understand through individuality
|
| But they lean towards destruction
|
| Took over creation, became philosophy
|
| A narrow-minded eagle that won’t expand its horizon
|
| One of them created a thought-box
|
| To regulate security
|
| And to create a limited universe
|
| A mentality formed into one’s dream
|
| Preventing the last war’s doll
|
| Building fences, suppressing thoughts
|
| He trapped the others inside a cage
|
| So they could breathe from the same wind
|
| But the box held the wind at bay? |