The wall on which the
prophets wrote
Is cracking at the seams
Upon the [bad word] of death
The sunlight brightly gleams
Where every man is torn apart
With nightmares and with dreams
Will no one lay the lauren wreath
As silence drowns the screams

Confusion
Will be my epitaph
-as I crawled and cracked
an open path
if we make it,
we can all sit back and laugh
-but I feel tomorrow I'll be crying

Between the iron gates of fate
The seeds of time were sown
And watered by the deeds of those
Who know and who are known
Knowledge is a deadly friend
If no one sets [bad word] 
The fate of all mankind I see,
Is in the fools