We are the inheritors; the evidence of heaven Descendants of a legacy gone but not forgotten We are the inheritors of the grand persuasion Descendants of its masquerade; numb but not defeated
Welcome to the silent war, to the world we never hoped to gain The great disguise wandering between two realms One dead the other rarely dwells beyond our eyes Lest we be sorely recognized
What little good intentions seem But obviate the bloom of self esteem We'll save our prayers Inured to wounds from bleeding minds Where wisdom dares not mix with time Never fear; they'll age they'll change they'll disappear
In every dance no steps are placed And every path mistakes are made And if all paths lead but to the grave Then let us dance along our way
Gliding from room to room all cast in celebrated gloom With no where yet to rest our head Waiting for a door to open from within and bring us home Lest we possess our souls again