What is but solemn grace,
The man forgotten by men.
He seeks the world for riches and glory,
Yet learns there are better men in place.
What ** and wonder,
This cosmic ball of life we play.
Where truth and lies dance together,
Like words with exchanging names.
So forget the man forgotten,
His name rubbed off of glory’s vain.
Where he sits and waits on the worlds revolution,
No redemptive grace.
So forget the man,
Clean the slate.
The world is already a noisy place.