Pastoral makeup and painstaking break up Painstaking...being the pain from the piercing of the stake, but for goodness sake The pain comes in waves as opposed to courses on a plate To feel belittled by the riddle The twisted idea of fate, it's lost, too late To fiddle with the letters written down on the slate To close your eyes as an attempt at pretending Pretending to pretend it's your friends you're defending Fate, to put it lightly, is quite simply impending The theory that some day your Uncle's world will be ending The fact that a coin can travel years; pending Only to fall into the hand Of a man with the ability to stand On the cusp between the good, the bad, And the promised land. Founded on grains of sand