We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Our dying voices
When we whisper and spread God’s will

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
In our shaken minds
In this land the stone images are raised

This plague named God that befalls all our senses
That governs our minds
We have fled from our home beyond the sea
But have built a realm of tyranny
That erases and dissolves all will and all peace

I am the survivor.

This everlasting people of these lands
No kings and champions that show their ugly hands
The land owns them, while they own the land
Nature speaks to them, while God commands us

The truth I seek, but where to go?
No longer can I stand the stench of God,
the stench of Christ, the stench of war
I seek the truth – alone I walk

Dei plena sunt omnia
Luceat lux vestra

Deo duce, ferro comitante
Luceat lux vestra

How can I ever find my peace
When the voice of God spreads nothing but disease?
We take and burn like they were none
But Nature shows her path - we are one.

Bound together by the Earth we walk
Bound together by the air we breathe
Bound together by the hands we use
And the breath of life

I am no hollow man
I am no stuffed man
My voice now has meaning
Yet only I can hear it.

I am no hollow man
I am no stuffed man
My soul now is screaming
But I found peace in this land beyond the sea

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