Through the ages people asking
Is there anything more than this
In every time people demanding
There must be something more than this

Can we be so insignificant
Just an accident
We've lent hopelessness a hand up to the throne

As science descends into chaos
The disillusioned masses
Feel they have nothing to call their own

And in this era out of such has grown
Weapons to blow the crust off our poor world
Banners unfurled in vain
Nobody heeds the pain
Of another, grabbing as much as they can
For themselves in the great traffic jam
Of life

Can they not hear and can they not see
The voice of You calling them to be
More than they are, to a better place
To leave behind the pointless rat race
To be happy...

This started off as a very depressed and cynical piece about the state of the world; the last verse just happened after I'd written the rest of it. Looking back on it, I realise how my derision of the 'rat-race' of modern society was at the time rather hypocritical, lining up as I was for another 'rat-race', if a rather more well-intentioned one. In the race we're meant to be running, the last line is important too...
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