At The Foot Of Mount Driskill Lyrics - Heathen - Thou

We are but antlings, vain in our assumptions. We would 

presume to grasp at the unfathomable. We would 

presume to dress it as man, to give it names, to speak its 

intention. Yet we are humbled beneath the shadow of true 

greatness. Now the earth crest rises to meet our gaze. 

We are but fleas. We are but lice. We are nothing. 

Insignificant. Dust motes blown away by the breath of 

time. Vague memories of no consequence. Vanquished 

are the fires in the eyes of the friends I knew. Just as they 

are deafened to my wasted breath. Each one more 

wasted than the others you can bet. Now I see through 

the illusion of permanence. I am diminished in the 

presence of vastness. Useless are my tools of science, of 

religion. There is no understanding of limitless power. We 

are at peace in our minor, subordinate role. Accept our 

frail, short lives.