Alone he sat to play

a game that has no end.

He doesn't have a friend,

yet he insists to send

a messenger of clay

with no message to bind.

Alone he has to find

his quest, the message says,

the rules that it obeys,

the price that virtue pays,

and things of every kind

which breeds insanity.

And so his vanity,

will drive him to the quest.

He thinks, like all the rest,

that if he does his best,

he'll save humanity,

and quests will be no more.

But oh, how I adore

the quests that people chase,

they make the world embrace,

and bring me to this place,

but oh how I abhor

the quest that brought me here,

and made it, oh, so clear

how quests can be so right;

the helmet of the knight

is not to show his might,

but just to hide the tear

this song may bring today:

alone I have to play

a game that has no end,

alone without a friend,

the lord may now descend,

he knows I will obey,

Prometheus is bound.