Epitaph

The wall on which the prophets wrote

Is cracking at the seams

Upon the instruments if death

The sunlight brightly gleams

When every man is torn apart

With nightmares and with dreams

Will no one lay the laurel wreath

As silence drowns the screams

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

Knowledge is a deadly friend

When no one sets the rules

The fate of all mankind I see

Is in the hands of fools

Confusion will be 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