Erasure from Delineations by Sirens and Prophets

The answers fall short, and the odds seem too long,
For all we’ve done right, we do so much more wrong.
We’ve pulled the curtain back, and we know that little man,
Pushes buttons and pulls the levers, but he’ll never understand.

Can’t we clear our history, wipe our memories clean,
Start from scratch, uncorrupted, optimize this machine.
Do we need some dire event, to erase our ugly stain?
We can’t seem to sort us out, ‘cause it’s only us to blame.

With hobbled horses and broken men, we still fight a war we cannot win,
Battle cries that went unheard, likely just misunderstood.

If you won’t hear wisdom, if you bank on faith,
Relinquish all your choices, put all your trust in fate.
Don’t be surprised when shapes we’ve drawn, get erased by angry hands,
Paradigms we thought we knew, blown away like desert sands.

With hobbled horses and broken men, we still fight this war we cannot win,
Battle cries that went unheard, or were they just misunderstood.
I doubt they went unheard, just so misunderstood,
Just so misunderstood.

• Rock
• Pella