Echolalia

Men, like ants

Run past

The toppling bricks

And the face of wrath

Futile is the work of men

Metal, stone, and words will all bend

On thy knees now

We fall with what we build

On thy knees now

We fall with what we build

On thy knees now

We fall with what we build

On thy knees now

Accumulate

Around the base

And count each blessing

Though it seems too late

It fell upon our heads

Our supposed strength

Echolalia in the baby's breath

Babbling into the belly and fed

On thy knees now

We fall with what we build

On thy knees now

We fall with what we build

On thy knees now

We fall with what we build

On thy knees now

Men, like ants

Run past

The toppling bricks

The face of wrath