The wall
on which the prophets wrote
is cracking
at the seams
upon the
instrument's object
the sunlight
brightly gleams
where every man
is torn apart
with nightmares
and with dreams
will no one lay
the laurel wreath
when silence
drowns the screams
confusion
will be my epitaph
as I crawl
this 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
knowledge is
a deadly friend
if no one
sets the rules
the fate of all
mankind I see
is in
the hands of fools
the wall
on which the prophets wrote
is cracking
at the seams
upon the
instrument's object
the sunlight
brightly gleams
where every man
is torn apart
with nightmares
and with dreams
will no one lay
the laurel wreath
when silence
drowns the screams
confusion
will be my epitaph
as I crawl
this 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
CRYING
CRYING
yes I fear tomorrow
I'll be crying
yes I fear tomorrow
I'll be crying
CRYING
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