To listen and say nothing

You insist that we were meant to be born this way, something divine had it all in store.
I suppose that your character was sketched within lines
That connect the fortune you comprise with all the health that you possess
In a lavish nest, so tightly knit
Pronounce your gratitude on knees turned black and blue
Hark the angelic choir
And if I told you right now, not all was in your reach, you just wouldn’t know what to think
Oceans away, a child contends for a better chance
(And if I told you, young son, about a place we can go
Where there's nothing you can think of that you aren't aloud to speak of, you wouldn't know what to think)
How are you so sure that all of this was made with hands that sculpted you and laid your path?
What an incandescent light to have fall into your lap
What about the holes? They're swallowing the overmatched
Plight cascades down circumstance
I'll never see through this mess
We've one foot left on a balancing beam in a teetering scene too grand for our heads to collect
Masses beneath engulf the canon into pits of desperate attempts to unearth the truth
The reasons not meant to comprehend
And we're fooled to think that we are more than ignorant at best
Our backs were made stiff while our stomachs remain buoyant
Are we to lay down and become paths for all the rest?
The only thing wrong here is believing that we are right