A primitive tribal superstition...
A mad mob craving a target for its rage....
A hive mind trapped in fear and ugliness...
Sacred refugee cast out amidst the desert;
Inner fugitive from the pitiless public glare.
The part that we throw-away and desert;
The forbidden side we don\'t dare to share.
Lucky victim of persecution and cruel hurt,
The innocent child on the sacrificial stair.
Watchful critic who is just too alert,
Bringer of tidings we just cannot bear.
....If He could rise...
...Then so can the outcast in us...
The custom that deigns to be an \"ought\",
But that is really the most of all unfair.
The way people just do as they\'re taught...
Doing Wrong without so much as a care.
...If our bad habits lose their grip on us...
...Divine once more we will be...
So much pain by ignorance is wrought,
So unhappy and guilty we are reared,
Put your past at last behind you,
martyr of Greed,
martyr of Lust,
martyr of Ignorance,
And shed for him, O you martyr of Beauty -
Your shadow, your scapegoat, your Christ -
Your First Heartfelt Tear...
And Be Reborn Anew In His Authentic Image,
A Wayfaring Cosmonaut.