Nobody asked you to be what you are,
Nobody told you to go quite so far,
Sometimes they need more then you have to give
Everyone demands the ultimate gift
And each fragile moment of every long day
You're frightened of failure in each word you say
Your wives and your children
Family and friends will persecute you for each small accident
And nothing can save you, no one forgives, your where buried in
Envy the moment that you lived
And running and hiding will do you no good
Praying is wasted you misunderstood
That the rules of the game were the ones that
You laid all those long years ago
When you heedlessly played at the role of
Creator from cradle till grave,
So suffer in silence you will never be saved
And all of the answers washed out on the sand
On a far distant shore of some unnamed dark land
Where the science of reason cannot yet expand
On the gospel of the martyrs, the nails in their hands,
Crashing gracelessly forward through
Forward through debris of fate
To the last bitter chapter the terminal gate
The chains that you fashioned you strain just to stand
Stumbling slowly surely into your own no man's land
compositores: McCluskey
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