The wall on which the prophets wrote is cracking at the seams
Upon the instruments of death, the sunlight brightly gleams

When every man is torn appart with nightmares and with dreams
Will no one lay the laurel wreath when silence drowns the screams
Confusion will by my EPITAPH

As I crawl A cracked and broken path if we make it we can all
Sit back and laugh but I fear tomorrow I'll be crying yes
I fear tomorrow I'll be crying yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying


Between the iron gates of fate the seeds of time were sown
And watered by the deeds of those who know and who are known
Knowledges are a deadly friend if no one sets the rules
The fate of all mankind I see is in the hands of fools