Lyrics Symphony for Bird and Gun - Anton Sword

All our stories, nothing to say
Saving our time, only to waste
In the primate family
We half-create ourselves with culture's surrogate mother

Sing with me: four, three, two, one
This symphony for bird and gun
Sing with me
Could this be the countdown to end time

I would lead you, but I see no way out
I might follow, but I don't trust you anyhow
Load the rifle, send the call
The narrative machine might still mean something or other after all

Sing with me: four, three, two, one
This symphony for bird and gun

In the end it's out of our hands
We evolved without a plan
Full of questions, we never know why
We are born or we die

Sing with me: four, three, two, one
This symphony for bird and gun
Sing with me
Could this be the countdown to end time