I recognize what I hear in your voiceIn the cold, through the linesI recognize the secular fireI want to take us awayWe're nothing more than animate fleshWe're nothing more than animateTime ends when I sayYou come to me, you come to me my wayIt's up to me who comes with me my wayThis is nothing that was preordainedBut as the whole thing culminatesAlong the lines of the determinist mindThere are answers, and reasons, and purposeful conclusions
