When the calling comes for the rest of us,
let me help you decide
But there is not much sympathy left to give for the deserted mind
I have the same fear tearing the plot in two
I know it's not your fight . . . right?
But the weight of it is breaking upon my back
So I can see that it's not without my life
Am I the last one?
Are we a dying breed?
I fear tomorrow will eclipse today
In time, we will erase it all
We are the fault of our own fall
So if you see it all, you take it to the ends,
and let it sound throughout your bones
In this, trust, they will not relent their rope
But the faithful are not alone
Don't let them tear it from your hands