What you do is what you are,
And wishing upon distant stars
Won't improve the hole you're in,
Won't absolve your deepest sin.

But action is no gift from some covert and lofty God,
It's dependant and weighty all the same.
And it is oh so easy just to keep to yourself,
But then you're at the mercy of imbeciles.

Now I didn't make up the rules,
But clearly we are led by fools.
It is wise to know their ways,
So you know how not to behave.

But sometimes we find ourselves in desperate need
And we look to those with privilege and power.
It's then we learn compassion sits inert on their shelves.
We're at the mercy of imbeciles.

No actions is no gift from some masked spirit in the sky.
It's reducible to flesh, mind and bone.
And it is oh so easy just to keep to yourself,
But then you're at the mercy of imbeciles.
Imbeciles! [3x]