The cycle begins
Born with a silver spoon
Choking out your life
You were born into right and privilege
Your own personal three fees of glory
To call your own
You spend the years
Making your own road
Living your own way
Being your own god
And serving no other than the great self
Which dictates its orders
Hearing no other call than that of the great I am
Inside of you, spurring you on to take all that you can get
Tread over the weak and vanquish the poor
They should have been stronger anyways
Have someone else make your cake and cram it in your greedy mouth
As the blood of the rest comes spewing out of the center of your being
Your ego has taken over the world
Your pride has been the death of the innocents
And when you die you will be terrorized by the sound of the thunder
Rolling in the distance
And the horrid realization that there is a god
And you my friend were mistakenly not him
Stand before the bema seat as your life burns right in front of you
I would die in the service to another yet I am freer than you can ever dream to be
Your the king for a day, a prisoner forever, a slave to the forces
Inside of you when it all burns
What is left will determine that speck of eternity
I'm not afraid to die
I would dare to die
I am stronger than you will be
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