Sullen, I loom forth into the microcosm,
Exuberant voices abound
I hear their scrapings of life,
Falling, into infinity

Knowledge is understanding,
And not truth
Truth is the myth that mocks us
Verification, the addendum of nothing
Paradoxical irony

The fools, content to live as numbers
What is it, that holds their attention,
So far from the innate questioning?
Where do they live?
The infinity of wisdom could not scour
The shit from their eyes

Their will, sold for security

This world, bathed in the filth of stupidity
Retarded humans, etching out their predetermined frameworks,
Created as a pathetic excuse for the unfounded purpose

My disconsolateness reigns supreme

For mine shall be hidden
I speak so that time may know I have spoken,
And not so that time is lost within my speech

Throughout the silence, I nurture the unspoken words

Intransigent predator
Look to your numbers And you shall be my prey!

[Lyrics - Greg ,1996]
[Music - Simon, 1995 / 96]