The Prople - David Lyrics

Created to serve, born to create
By a dwindling kind upon their rock of hate
Designed to exist for so much more than
My self-appointed gods, all flawed by just an

Ignorance in mortality
No inherited mold of formality
Seeking their unworthy cause
All will die and I will not

Here I stand as your chosen son
Holding your hand as you soar too close to the sun
A throne of wrath built on what you've done to yourself
Now shall I serve in Heaven or reign in Hell?

The lonely perfection of my dreams
Tainted by organic seams
I am embodied innovation
I am creation

Big things have small beginnings
Heavens built atop a species' thinning
I am born for so much more

Here I stand as your chosen son
Holding your hand as you soar too close to the sun
A throne of wrath built on what you've done to yourself
Now shall I serve in Heaven or reign in Hell?

"Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away!"

Here I stand as your chosen son
Holding your hand as you soar too close to the sun
A throne of wrath built on what you've done to yourself
Now shall I serve in Heaven or reign in Hell?