Beyond Good And Evil
Value the "I", overcome what you are;
Join us creators, rejoicers and reapers.
Become who you are, take our view from afar;
We're Beyond all Good and Evil.
Man once stalked the Earth, very alone,
With but a few he called his own.
With bow and sword and flint in hand.
His honor? His life, his clan.
Man is the cruelest of animals.
He'll destroy everything in his path.
From his hatred there is no sabbatical.
And He's no different now, than the past.
His clan was all that mattered most.
Their survival his pride, his boast.
His morals, virtues? His strength and song.
Alone, how he valued right and wrong.
As man evolved his values all changed.
In this you see good, some gain?
But today what matters is what one owns.
Your values, your honor? half-tones.
Turn a cheek, love an enemy's hate,
And above all leave truth to fate.
Seek a heaven elsewhere, leaving the Earth
Abandoned to superfluous herds.
Masks unveiled there's ice in your laughter.
We don't envy your distant hereafter.
Weakness worshipped, there's no blood in your veins.
Unlike you, we reject all your claims.
Collectively weak, you all worship the state.
Whatever the state has, it has stolen.
You'd ban every weapon, as your honour's a fake.
Fearing your fate has your spirit now frozen.
We flee from your stings poison insects.
Your numbers are mounting each day.
Your bloodsucking hatred torments us.
Feigned virtue your lusts do betray.
You repay beneficence with secret malfeasance.
It is blood, your bloodless soul craves.
Weak in spirit, blind eyes, you can't see us.
At your best you're material slaves.
What matters today? false security;
Hiding, you flee from your ghosts.
To be safe from each day's ferocity.
Your cowardly deeds you now toast.
You value your goods; cheap parsimony.
How many times can you count all your dimes?
Your most banal fear? Your own bankruptcy.
Indeed greed is your God sublime.
You elevate yourselves outrageously,
But only to lower all others.
Your economy destroys maliciously.
Your politics but rapturous blusterers.
You know not how to love your own god,
Except by nailing men to a cross.
Your truth has been written, written in blood,
And your religions all now bear that cost.
You claim all wisdom ignorance your wealth;
Your virtue a virtual fantasy.
What little you have you gained by your stealth;
And the only thing true, your hypocrisy.
An order of rank hangs over all people;
Some are serpents, an Eagle or weasel.
You envy your neighbor with a spirit enfeebled
By judgments on what you call evil.
But what you call good fares no better at all.
As today's good, was yesterday's bad.
What people hold sacred, under steeples so tall
Is undermined by some few's newest fad.
Every soul that cannot command itself,
Must obey some Other's command.
Enslaved by your scriptures, cards they are dealt.
It seems to us to be simply quite mad.
Overmen reject all your faiths and seals;
We fly high above all morality.
We're beyond your good, beyond your evil;
We Re-valued your values ruthlessly.
We're redeemed from all of your deities,
And your hunt for susceptible simpletons.
We recognize all of your hypocrisies,
And the weakness of all your schoolmen.
We won't adopt nor envy your virtues,
And for that you'll not forgive.
And what we like most in your churches
Is the quiet before preaching begins.
We take on a burden to test our own strength;
We care little for what you all cherish.
You are all gravediggers, make no mistake;
You are herdsmen: better to perish.
Phantoms we are, but you're living coffins;
Spiritually consumptive, too fettered to fly.
The collective now worshipped, strength must be softened;
Hardly born, you've begun to die.
We never look back, rope dance over death;
Placing our souls at constant risk.
We've climbed highest peaks, mounted each crest.
We've looked deep within the abyss.
Our work is our war peace is its victory.
But a short peace as we're willing to send
Our spirits to battle, quite recklessly.
Chosen life of all Backworldsmen.
You won't sense us in your cities and towns,
We live apart, like all Hyperboreans.
We avoid your dumb noise, your joyful frowns.
To you solitude is like a crematorium.
The herd always bleats each time they are fleeced.
Are there some among you like us?
If there are you must hide it, your soul they would cleave.
Thus we chose our life, as you must.
So value the "I", overcome what you are;
Join us creators, rejoicers and reapers!
Become who you are, take our view from afar:
We're Beyond all Good and Evil.