Culture was the seed of proliferation But it has gotten melded into an inharmonic whole Consciousness has plagued us and we can not shake it Though we think we're in control Questions that besiege us in life Are testament of our helplessness There's no vestige of a beginning, No prospect of an end (hutton, 1795) When we all disintegrate it will all happen again
Time is so rock solid in the minds of the hoards but they can't Explain why it should slip away History and future are the comforts of Our curiosity but here we are Rooted in the present day
If you came to conquer you'll be king for a day But you too will deteriorate and quickly fade away And believe these words you hear When you think your path is clear
We have no control We do not understand You have no control You are not in command!
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