Admist the dust four pillars rise
Next to the hollow of omission
Housing long withstanding lies
In the circus of wanton attention
Among colored tents and whirling rides
Stands here with the father of invention
Tall and thin with blacked out eyes
Here the fallen architects of destruction
Forgotten now their magic born in hate
Despite everything they know they offer to let us live
But I scream out, �It�s up to Fate!�
In a haven known for providence
Angels pull from our backs knives
Trembling bloodied hands hold evidence
Holding onto ones with shattered lives
Here the fallen architects of destruction
Forgotten now their magic born in hate
Despite everything they know they offer to let us live
But I scream out, �It�s up to Fate!�
In a chalice full of apathy
A child sleeps, shudders, and cries
His father has lost all sympathy
Stand and watch as each tear dries
In a crevice torn from corruption
Four pillars crumble, names that I despise
Misery, Greed, Sorrow, Consumption
Cold alone the child dies
Here the fallen architects of destruction
Forgotten now their magic born in hate
Despite everything they knew they offered to let him live
But I screamed out, �It�s up to Fate!�
Cold alone, the child died.