There is bread for the dead, but there is no time for the climb.
There´s a place for the race, but there is no course for the horse.
I´m flying, I´m waiting, I´m losing,
Denying, debating, refusing.

Sooner than now, the flood falls,
Sooner than now, the night.
Sooner than now, the blood calls.
Prophets proclaim the fight.

There is fire on the pyre, but there is no song for the strong.
Trumpets sound, mountains bound, but hills will not fall at your call.
I´m flying, I´m waiting, I´m losing,
Denying, debating, refusing.

Sooner than now, the bones burn,
Sooner than now, the mind.
Sooner than now, the eyes turn;
All we have lies behind.

Fortune whispers her part.
Sands fall, chaos resumes.
Stars drift further apart, become dark tombs.

Sooner than now, the child grows,
Sooner than now, the grain.
Sooner than now, the bile flows
On labor done in vain.

Labor to find exemption,
Labor to ease the pain,
Labor to earn redemption,
We labor in vain.
We labor in vain.

 

-Marco Klaue, ©2002

 

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