Poet, priest, and visionary 
Rallied to the call 
The will of human kind 
Defied them all 

Coveting the gold and silver 
Idols of success 
Only to perpetuate duress 

Every king’s assassin waiting 
Silently at bay 
Counting down until 
His holy day 

Artifacts of ancient wisdom 
Buried in the sand 
Hastily upturned 
To clear the land 

Now I ain’t gonna claim to be the second son 
I love my fellow man but I hate what he’s become 
And it goes on and on and on 

To calculate the universe 
Leads further from divine 
But can we comprehend 
All that we find 

Artifacts of ancient wisdom 
Buried in the sand 
Neglected and denied 
By us again 

Now I ain’t gonna cast the first stone, you see 
I love my fellow man and I love what he could be 
But it goes on and on and on