Hors des sentiers battus

We don't see the sunlight dancing on the moon
We don't gather wisdom from the weathered rune

Walking through the wasteland of our squandered youth
We stumble over fragments but don't accept the truth

Man's on the brink, those gods-to-be
They think they think but they cannot see
That they're losing out

We meet a wingless angel take him by the hand
We nail him to the temple door because he cannot stand

"What is thy charge?" we ask him, "why leav'st the hea'enly pool?" -
"I was sent here to save you - I know now I was fooled."

Man's on the brink, those gods-to-be
They think they think but they cannot see
They think they think but they cannot see
That they're losing out