My fists are made of iron
And my arms of lead
Grafted to concrete shoulders
That bear my fragile head

For within that shell I am
For within hell I am
A fortress of man
A foretold tale without a plan

Despair not, for hell is only in the mind
As is all, that ever was
For the universal gears still grind
Churning forth, through thick and thicker
No chance to get left behind
but carried on, the universe still
Timely gets us there
Through hell, and all men's minds
Mechanically without a care.