“In this world... Is the destiny of mankind controlled by some... transcendental entity, or law? Is it like the hand of God hovering above? At least it is true; that man has no control —even over his own will...”
A dead crow calls out to its wings I'm getting weaker I'm getting thin I hate how obvious I have been I'm getting weaker I'm getting weaker I'm getting weaker I'm getting weaker And I look down and see the whole world And it's fading