Besieged by the norm
In pitiful human form
Like a filthy worm
in the crown of thorns
Marching hordes
Like cattle to the slaughter
Obedient and deaf
and scared to bother
They reach out for light
which does not exist
Light that could purify
but dies in mist
Besieged by the norm
In pitiful human form
Like a filthy worm
in the crown of thorns
Isn't it an evidence that
they're left alone?
Desperately looking for a god
who is long gone
Is long gone
So merciful, yet so blind
With these lies that bind
Still he's one of a kind
Though they cannot find him
They cannot find him