Ophiuchus Rex (He Who Plays with the Serpents) Lyrics

I dove down the social spirals
Towards inferior eternities
Still clutching the ideal-
The masks of fabled greatness
Men like gods?
Humankind is insignificance
Personified

Memories fade
Burned to death by futurity
Legacies vanish
Consumed by worms
What is a drop to the storm
That bursts it?
Meaningless wretch of the womb
That birthed it

My spiral dance complete
I hail the rushing Earth

Ophiuchus...

Men like gods (you are weak)
Hail the rushing Earth
Spiral dance complete
Hail the rushing Earth

The inexorable conquest-
I stare at my cremation
Its yearning, cleansing flames
As cinders, ash and dust
Become the extent
Of my remains...