A Hope For Home Babylon: The Insatiable Thirst
Hollow.
To be without the One that brought us here.
Meaningless.
Rip the roots from the ground to lay down foundations
bound to crumble.
Generations will come and go but the earth will remain.
Swallow lies as you construct compensations for truth.
Trading in our souls for white washed figures and
towering symbols of our progress. We're all chasing the
wind.
But it's all in vain. The same fate will overtake us
all in the end.
The workforce marching, hearts heavy as stone.
For the same fate overtakes us all.
And I have walked every mile, and upturned every stone.
I've indulged every urge And bowed at the altar of
greed.
Just to find that all of this is meaningless.
What is there left for men to do with the little time
we have?
Denying ourselves nothing we desire. We are counting
down the days until we've reached our final hour.
Nothing will be gained under the sun.
I have seen, all things forged must come undone.
I have surveyed all my hands have done.
And when we pass we leave everything behind.
I have walked every mile, and upturned every stone.
I've indulged every urge and bowed at the altar of
greed.
Just to find that all of this is meaningless.
And as we stand at the edge of time, we will look back
and we will see
That our gods all will fade to dust if they are built
from mortar and machines.
Hollow.
Meaningless
