No great feeling lifts me up now in the thunder plains
No sagely voice has torn the sky and told you you're to blame
In my eternal soul, I forsake these lofty claims
On the alter of truth can I burn this emptiest of frames?
This is not the only thing that stains
Yours is not the only life you make
No belief has swallowed you like you once claimed it did
With no beast to give you proof, your will is growing thin
Bereft of the myth, how will you now acquit?
You may curse the cold but cannot build an engine that is fit
You don't have to make the same mistakеs
This is not the only way it works