Timid angels step lightly
While our sure footed pace overtakes
Divinity it might be
But fools still win the race
Lines that start and finish
Flags of chequered squares
Hours set out in minutes
The speed of life compared
Measured out in moments
By those of us still counting
The world outside is broken
The pieces piled up into mountains
Armed with ambitions
And the monuments of mind
We stick to the old traditions and climb
And climb
As pure as the spirit that moves you
Without conscience's sharper edge
Faith in such illusions
Is somewhat comforting
Lines that start and finish
Flags of chequered squares
Hours set out in minutes
The speed of life compared
Measured out in moments
By those of us still counting
The world outside is broken
The pieces piled up into mountains
Armed with ambitions
And the monuments of mind
We stick to the old traditions and climb
And climb