There's a way that seems right unto mankind
But therein lies the ways of death
It takes a lot of trying to keep on denying
Paupers and peasants, masters of jest

Unrealized, mortality thrives
Finally gives way to the ending age
No strenght in numbers, wing left or right
The Morning Light brings times decay

All our ways that seem so right
Lay inside the ways of death
All our trying and our denying
Paupers and peasants, masters of jest