Poor, pitiful creature--they think
That they are right,
But this day she sees their destruction;
They blind each other's sight.

Wasting away on their answers--
None of which can do any good.
They only see what they allow
Themselves--limited to what
Can be proved.

Logic, their only helpmate, will
Leave them wanting for more...
When they finally see the fate
Of those who will beat upon
His door.

"Lord, Lord we believe thee now--
Now that we've seen thy face."
But bitter tears shall fall that
Day, for their logic will be their

Why are they so full of themselves,
Quick to tell of their deeds?
As if they've ever done any good--
Their "truth" has only deceived.