Like a lump between two surgeons Man quivers 'twixt desire and need: The law is the will, and we've chosen The kingdom of which we would be
In filial sect We are genesis incarnate: In our faces We see manifest destiny
(and) leave nothing alive
With thoughts of heaven come deeds of flesh: We'd look once more upon his holy visage And our children whom we've known and wed (are) our means to recreate his image
In lurking fear of his displeasure After dark, between their cries In the eye of the beholder: This is where beauty dies