942 : 12 ?And standing looking back I said America
you’re going to reap the evil that you’ve sewn
And all the time unknowing you’re passing the
point of no return, beyond the pale beyond the known
And maybe it would be a better thing
To lay down and die, the cancer’s only grown
More in more, in spite of all your fighting
All your fury and your sound
But in the end you will worship your king
Of filthy lucre until it drives you in the ground
And having said my piece we moved along
Listened to a rising roaring sound
I can’t express it in a song
The storm of the multitude inferno
A hundred thousand millions souls strong
On the verge of the ditch where the wicked counselors go
Like sparks from the welders arc
Like crystals in a storm of snow
Like fireflies above the water, old Smith Park
Anonymous wrapped in fire all the same
Eliot said souls burn in the eternal dark
Wrapped in the fire that drove them to seek a name
by leading their society into the shadows
Trapped like moths around a candle, drawn to flame
I said look at that strange two headed flame that goes
twisted and turning through the gloom
I watched in wonder as the flames flickered fell and rose
Eliot said wait until that flame looms
close to us and wonder at the sight
Two ancient generals who shared a watery tomb
Two souls burning in the endless night
And we didn’t we didn’t say a word
When the twin flame passed us narrowly on the right
I listened intently but all I heard
Was a silence trapped inside silence that endured
This song is part of a series loosely based on Dante's Inferno. You can read an essay about this series here. You can read a more general explanation of the origin of these lyrics here
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