Dreams of foolish mortal men
Dreaming things that have never been
The weak hearted take this prize,
Blinded in their senses they take this prize,
And hold it close with lonely cries.

The strong willed ones push it away
Down in that darkening grave they lay
With mutilated hearts and broken seams,
Ah, their bodies all broken seams,
They should have grasped that foolish dream.

And what of the ones who block their minds
Trying to break free of all their binds
They take this gift and rip it to shreds,
Out of their minds they rip it to shreds,
And they fall upon their cold deathbeds.

The world is full of chaos and hope
And with that dream, we learn to cope
Grasping the disease of human pride,
The sickening disease of human pride,
We grasped that dream, and the disease then died.