So little of my life is spent
in finding out what all this meant.
My rule of life is my own bent,
I have no sins to repent.
So little of my path is known.
No fate is carved in rock or stone.
From a little seed a tree is grown,
On this journey I embark alone.
So little of my time is used
in matters clear and not confused.
In front of nothing I am bemused,
my ignorance can be excused.
So little of my heart is warm,
I consider this to be the norm.
I love all change but not reform.
In my glass there reigns a storm.
So little of my work is done
amidst the noise and all the fun.
Of sacred gods I will have none,
I will crush them one by one.