Sing your praises on high
to long since deafened ears.

Build monuments to your sins
of all the bloodshed and tears.

From cultures wiped out
on your righteous crusades.

Just like the Druids
your religions will fade.

There are no gods to save you,
no one to hear your pleas.

So unclasp your hands,
get off your knees.

People need saving
yet we sit idly by.

Whispering to the clouds,
waiting to die.