In an empty room,
tell them a story.
In an endless boom,
tell them their story.
Build a temple,
build a people.
Forget a temple,
scatter a people.
Forget a people,
scatter a story.
Store a voice,
forget sound.
Build a temple,
watch it crumble to the ground.

Forget more than this.
Forget where to grip.
Forget what you grow.
Forget that you don’t know.
Forget what you want.
Forget what you need.
Forget forgetting.
Remember to leave.
Forget nothing,
remember nothing.

Or, question the Temple,
question the people.
Forget the Temple,
forget the people.
Remember the Temple,
question the people.
Temper your Temple,
tumble your walls.
Remember your people,
remind your people.
Build your Temple.
Build your people.
Temple your people.

In a bursting room,
sign a sad song,
chart a long path,
hike for millennia,
begin at last.