This salve, your salvation A little rebellion Trust no future Some reprieve You call for faith Art was made to disturb The world, which seems to lie Climb the cross of the moment While humanity is sold in shame The wolf howls each yellow morning Stuff wax in my ears Dying piecemeal (or so we argue)� I'm sick at heart We have no need for genius Our discovery ends there Heroes come back from war None intact--what will people say?