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