The wall on which the prophets wrote is cracking at the seams 
Upon the instruments of death the sunlight brightly gleams 
When every man is torn apart with nightmares and with dreams 
Will no one lay the laurel wreath as silence drowns the screams 

Confusion will be my epitaph 
As I walk a cracked and broken path 
If we make it we can all sit back and laugh 
but I fear tomorrow I'll be crying 
Yes, I fear tomorrow I'll be crying 

Between the iron gates of fate the seeds of time were sown 
And watered by the deeds of those who know 
and who are known 
Knowledge is a deadly friend when no one sets the rules 
The fate of all mankind I see is in the hands of fools 

Confusion will be my epitaph 
As I walk a cracked and broken path 
If we make it we can all sit back and laugh 
but I fear tomorrow I'll be crying 
Yes, I fear tomorrow I'll be crying