Like convulsing fish unaware Of the murk in which they swim The black hole generator Were all forced to live within Self awareness imbued biochemical machinery Searching for our place at the gates of infinity You look to etchings based on fear Who am I? Why am I here? And think youve found the answer You presume to know the mind of God And grant him greater power Each rational gaze through the lens of inquiry Will widen our view through the cracks of reality Consider now, as we all must The possibility That the glorification of a myth Is what your life has come to be You look to etchings based on fear Who am I? Why am I here? Religious moral guidance With its crude bronzeage inception Steers mankind to shallow depths And in the wrong direction We are not the lonely product Of a maniac creator We are all living as a result Of the black hole generator
etching, generator, based, bronzeage, biochemical