What fresh hell is this?
I got the gun, I got the wheel
I got the heart, but all I do is miss
What would you have me do?
Everyone I miss is gone
And everyone I love is leaving too
What shall I say?
Not that I am sorry; I am not
And it don't matter anyway
In the Years of the Primal Course, in the dawn of terrestrial birth
Man mastered the mammoth and horse, and Man was the Lord of the Earth
He made him an hollow skin from the heart of an holy tree
He compassed the earth therein, and Man was the Lord of the Sеa
He controlled the vigour of stеam, he harnessed the lightning for hire;
He drove the celestial team, and man was the Lord of the Fire
Deep-mouthed from their thrones deep-seated, the choirs of the æeons declare
The last of the demons defeated, for Man is the Lord of the Air
Arise, O Man, in thy strength! the kingdom is thine to inherit
Till the high gods witness at length that Man is the Lord of his spirit
When peace like a river, attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well, with my soul
It is well (is well)
With my soul (with my soul)
It is well, it is well with my soul