| Lyrics: | I stood alone upon the highest cliff-top,
looked down, around, and all that I could
see
were those that I would dearly love to share with
crashing on quite blindly to the
sea...
I tried to ask what game this was,
but knew I might not play it:
the voice, as
one, as no-one, came to me...
'We have looked upon the heroes
and they are found
wanting;
we have looked hard across the land,
but we can see no dawn;
we have now
dared to sear the sky,
but we are still bleeding;
we are drawing near to the
cliffs,
now we can hear the call.
The clouds are piled in
mountain-shapes,
there is no escape except to go forward.
Don't ask us for an answer
now,
it's far too late to bow to that convention.
What course is there left but to
die?
We have looked upon the High Kings,
found them less than mortals:
their
names are dust before the just
march of our young, new law.
Minds stumbling strong, we
hurtle on
into the dark portal;
No-one can halt our final vault
into the unknown
maw.
And as the Elders beat their brows
they know that it's really far
too late
now to stop us.
For if the sky is seeded death
what is the point in catching breath? -
Expel it.
What cause is there left but to die
in searching of something we're not quite
sure of?
What cause is there left but to die?
... I really don't know why
...
I know our ends may be soon
but why do you make them sooner?
Time may
finally prove
only the living move her and
no life lies in the quicksand.
Yes,
I know it's
Out of control, out of control:
Greasy machinery slides on the
rails,
Young minds and bodies on steel spokes impaled...
Cogs tearing bones, cogs tearing
bones;
Iron-throated monsters are forcing the screams,
Mind and machinery box-press the
dreams...
... but there still is time ...
Cowards are they who run
today,
the fight is beginning...
no war with knives, fight with our lives,
lemmings
can teach nothing;
death offers no hope, we must grope
for the unknown answer:
unite
our blood, abate the flood,
avert the disaster...
There's other ways than screaming
in the mob:
that makes us merely cogs of hatred.
Look to the why and where we
are,
look to yourselves and the stars and in the end
What choice is there left but to
live
in the hope of saving
our children's children's little ones?
What choice
is there left but to live?
to save the little ones?
What choice is there left but to
try |
