Since the start of the 17th century / There's been the scent of
unseasoned wood burning in the air / And the conquest of
nature meant nothing at all / While we betray exception we
take all that is there

Motives are translucent in the reflection of shame / The actions
ghostly remnants of our ancestral ways / And unwittingly, you
just take your place in this parade / The voracious march of
godliness makes us all the same anyway

Since the dawn of our human family / There's been concentrated
sepsis blowing in the breeze / And we turned on each other
with ferocity / Desperation, forced, without reprieve

But the missions were misguided and the trammeled led
astray / The air resounds with thunder as the victors seized
the day / And the haunting voice of history lives ignored but
not betrayed / The voracious march of godliness will get us
close to heaven one day