We are the shadowed men
alone, yet not apart,
in dreams not dreamed,
nor schemed,
nor even reminisced.
We hold together
foundation weak,
still founded on experience.
We are the Godless men
we clothed in sainthood cloak
we battle minds with drawn - out lines
of stubborn clinging hope
some self - made clutching madness.
We fear the Hangman's rope.
We ward the daily watch.
We wear the Stranger's cape.
We shroud off Armageddon.
Expose the scalpel's blade
in limitless escape
of emptiness.
We lost in reason.
It is we, ourselves, we fear.
Lost in our Father's sins.
We grin
and lavish thorns
on crumpled signs
that would lead us to our Future
usurp our measured pasts
stamp out our lifeless presents
like a foot on smattered glass.
We are the empty men
exposed and lost
in nothingness.
Our Fire and Flesh know not ourselves
through sundials spun in Time.
In awe of dim - lit shadows,
the liars lie in rhyme,
the drummer sighs in time,
and fortitude is Thine,
our emptiness,
sublime.
We are the shadowed men
we hate our Deaths,
consume our lives
and hunger Immortality,
along its mortal way.
We bear a thousand children
in the passage of a day.
We see our light come shining,
we enter from the East.
We bear the Cross of Hedon,
and fight against release.
We come from nowhere
to seek out noone,
we entered knowing all,
and died in ignorance.
For we are the empty men,
the shadowed men,
we suck in all we will.
We are the empty men
we scream in humble shrill,
until we conquer all;
we are the Godless men.
The Deathless men in Latin pose
we spew forth endless lines of prose.
We know our means,
we have no end
in drift from fire to stone again
in drift from death to life
no end
in drift from fire,
from smoke,
from ash,
we drift, we drift
from grey to black
from death to life
to death and back.
We are the shadowed men
lost in reason
found in emptiness.
World without end.
You are our happy company
You are our happy company
You are our happy company
You are our happy,
happy, happy,
company.
You are.
