| It was never | |
| The icy winds of the heights | |
| But the coldness of the world | |
| That hardened my foundation | |
| Whether your approach | |
| Is that of praise or blasphemy | |
| The construction of my being | |
| Will remain the same | |
| If my soaring presence | |
| Threatens to break your neck | |
| Then so be it | |
| You shall dread my name | |
| There is a fundamental cleft | |
| Between your world and mine | |
| One of divine origin | |
| Were you to witness | |
| The nakedness of your own soul | |
| It would still appear a tower of Babel | |
| Is it such a crime to go apart and be alone? | |
| Your holy simplicity turns gold into stone |