Born from the nucleus, dreamed to be bigger,
Heart is for pumping and brain is for illusions.
Living in illusions, breathing out of time;
I am dead alive hardly know the meaning of life. ...
DEAD, with their eyes to the foe,
Dead, with the foe at their feet;
Under the sky laid low
Truly their slumber is sweet,
Though the wind from the Camp of the
Slain Men blow,
And the rain on the wilderness beat.