Echolalia

Men, like ants
Run past
The toppling bricks
And the face of wrath
Futile is the work of men
Metal, stone, and words will all bend

On thy knees now
We fall with what we build
On thy knees now
We fall with what we build
On thy knees now
We fall with what we build
On thy knees now

Accumulate
Around the base
And count each blessing
Though it seems too late
It fell upon our heads
Our supposed strength
Echolalia in the baby's breath
Babbling into the belly and fed

On thy knees now
We fall with what we build
On thy knees now
We fall with what we build
On thy knees now
We fall with what we build
On thy knees now

Men, like ants
Run past
The toppling bricks
The face of wrath