There was a point in the distant time
When things seemed so cold and darkly
A state of material existence so fine
Having nothing to do with guilt or money.

With moonbeams shining
The periodic and unpredicated aberrations
Of an imaginative mind left napping
Baneful influence of the embracing lunar light.

Destructive nature and love of fire
While she pours out her silvery beams
By the early traces of morning light
I saw the Morlocks take to underground flight.

Feel no need to understand
All you want placed in your hands
Underground lies dark and dangerous lives
A concrete world of technical production

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