Theres got to be a reason Theres got to be a meaning For all this effort marked By centuries of questions and doubts I was blinded, turned deaf to speech My hair turned grey, my flesh a rot Every thought stillborn and my soul turned bliss For I know nothing The gods resented my plead Thus I turned three hundred years old Without having learned anything All this pondering, its made me sway All this to make out the one final question I was blinded, turned deaf to speech My hair turned grey, my flesh a rot Every thought stillborn and my soul turned bliss For I know nothing The gods resented my plead Thus I turned three hundred years old Without having learned anything In dark and lonely hours I sought to find the heart of our creation Never could I dream of what I found by the greatest hexagram For I know nothing The gods resented my plead Thus I turned three hundred years old Without having learned anything The thesis of God, the search for Magick Made me at first seek, then bow to a truth I didnt want to know For I know nothing The gods resented my plead Thus I turned three hundred years old Without having learned anything
turned, resented, plead, thus, hundred