You're in a room full of wicked servants
without a clue as to what you're doing here.
One of them tells you to go light the furnace.
And then he vanishes into thin air.

Your shaking hand holds a used book of matches.
You tear one out and then you strike up a flame.
At seeing this everyone starts laughing,
then suddenly convulse in terrible pain.

At your right hand a thousand have fallen.
No memory of them will remain on the Earth.
To your left countless mourners are crawling,
loudly cursing the hour of their birth

Then all at once you're in pitch black darkness.
The floor beneath you tilts, you start to slide.
Until finally you find you are falling.
There's wailing sounds of fear on every side.

You search your memory banks to recall an old name,
that long ago you heard, or was it a dream?
You have a notion that if you could remember
and call it out, you would be rescued and freed.

Freed from this nightmare world without any ending,
and spared from an eternal suffering.
That fire you started up for warmth is burning.
It's underneath you now, searing your skin.

Inside your pounding head a voice starts shouting,
"He was a fisherman but you're no fish!
He was a shepherd but you're not some lamb!
You are a coward and an evil man!"

Then in a harsher tone if possible still,
"Such is the price for your free will.
I myself had no such thing.
Only the judgement of a God and a king."!!