Two men cross on an empty field
No word spoken, they know the world
Like open books they read each other
Is truth or façade taking place here?

The trees bare and stretching tall
Like eerie fingers resurrected
Cold wind bites the skin
Though neither man resents it

They stare in silence, darkness enveloping
Twilight soon fades to black
The two men never dare moving
Is truth of façade taking place here?

Snow falls silently on the empty field
Leaving everything in white
It slides down the neck like daggers
Though neither man resents it

Perfection is at hand
Both men can feel it
The time has come to rise up and rule
Is truth or façade taking place here?

Higher and higher they rise to meet
Perfection is knowledge, and knowledge, perfection
The light ahead blinds even God
Though neither man resents it

In time perfection slips away
From both men, from everyone
It can’t be gained, much less forced
Is truth or façade taking place here?

Disappointment runs throughout
The snow begins to thicken
Time keeps ticking
Though neither man resents it

Two men standing on an empty field
Each turn and go separate ways
Never looking back
Is truth or façade taking place here?