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If I could only get the tools
The stimuli and the molecules, frozen moments in time
I could be the archetype, a credit to the genotype, re-program your mind
But the storybook sages fill their pages
Hiding from the warming sun
Limitless distractions give no pause
To distort a precious delusion
Delusion
Precious delusion
Did you see the moralist retort and raise his fist
"You can't make man a machine!"
I can see the edifice crumbling in foggy mist
Razed by discovery
But the storybook sages fill their pages
Hiding from the warming sun
Limitless distractions give no pause
To distort a precious delusion
Delusion
Precious delusion
Delusion
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