A moth in the darkness
Names the flame "progress"
And that's not something
That one fights.
So this is our present:
To a world without wonder
The future has past,
We fly into the light.

The trash we love and the hate we breathe.
The sleep we live and the life we dream.
The future is history.
The future is history.
The ruins we build and the death we breed
To forget that man is ape's debris.

The future is history.