Here like a penitent
At the grove of the ancient gods
I stand with hands raised
Like in worship and supplication
Chanting songs whose lyrics I understand not
Whose rhythm I can't dance;

The prophets lied
For they prophesied of better days
Yet they have been overtaken
By unprecedented evil
For the messiah has refused
To die for the people;
He has forsaken his mission,
Abandoned the flock he vowed to protect;

Yet they say better days are coming!
Shall we clap for them
Or seek another way?
For we stand at the crossroads
Unable to choose
The right from the wrong path;

But we've got to choose
For soon the night would come
Upon us, and we would be
Unable to distinguish
The black goat in the darkness.