If it taints against the reign
Of what use is that to me
If the thread tears beneath the weight
Is there more silk to wind it together
But look at all the length of twine
In heaps at our feet
If the thread is our life
Must we not look to the loom
Or just strive for wealth
For our services rendered

Unto ourselves into the dark
Inside the midst of a worsening storm

Where no seams will hold
Where all fabric is in twain
Beneath the edge of the loom master's robe

Woe

And what are we doing now
And what are we
When we only try to gain
We are undone