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Album: The Perfect Is The Enemy Of The Good (2003)
"...(the weapon was) a single projectile charged
with all the power of the universe.
An incandescent column of smoke and flame
As bright as the thousand suns rose in all it's splendor...
An iron thunderbolt,
A gigantic messenger of death,
Which reduced to ashes the entire race....
the corpses were so burned As to be unrecognizable.
The hair and nails fell out; Pottery broke without
apparent cause, And the birds turned white...After a few
hours All foodstuffs were infected...to escape from this fire
The soldiers threw themselves in streams
To wash themselves and their equipment"
[-the Mahabharata (ancient Indian text)]
The past is just the past isn't it?
Or is there so much more behind history
too old to be told.
Blocks of faith, power and greed
could not stand a chance,
would be taken to their knees.
I've read the accounts of mushroom clouds of 4000 years
past and the flight of Viminas
and structures placed in such a way
that just may spell out our fate.
Reduced to tourist sites...
so be the maps of civilization.
Watch the sun fall.
The year it ends, watch them all come down.
We won't need our bombs
to make the rain fire.
All tongues, all faiths
correspond on the 5th's sun's fall.
You can't use your greed to buy your way back.
comes with a surge
to burn and purge.
Materialists run with a life
all in vain but
there's no justice like the end of the world.
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