Through toil great wisdom instilled in my box
In that case I reckoned that I am a blessed fox
But it seems to me that all in vain
Because of my succumb that I can't refrain

Alas... Death to its fangs all our knowledge will be wrack
And who knows what's beyond death, might be all totally black
Are we still sting with the same looping dilemma
In the land of dead are we still haunt by this kind of enigma