Nay, nay, set your sights afar. We've strayed in wary, but were weary slain. Cries in volumes, bleated strains, caught off guard and untrained.
Now, when the dark was hallowed, they burned the light just to spy the prize from above. And when the stars were bolted just for eyes, you might weep. The prize is no reward.
I'll concede no hope is won. I'll concede no opening the only way I've known.
I wouldn't have felt this tired but we've run. And god if I had known what we're in for, I'd hide. The hunt of wills, I thought, would kill me. And which they preyed, I saw myself draped in sheep's skin, blood crumbs, entrails. So which mark is seized. Which one will faint? I'll concede no hope if given time.
On high, some kind of word sent down, 'give in.” Nay, nay, set your sights afar. We've strayed in weary, and were wary slain. Cries in volumes, bleated strains, caught off guard and untrained.