Call me Samael
Watch your skeleton roll
Roll on down the road
In a wind you never made
A stiff wind of culture
They're all on automatic
They're all on will-engage
Everybody's on the run from the knowledge that comes
when you just sit still and listen.
Why should that be? I don't really know.
Perhaps life evaporates if left too long.
Perhaps we're living on the sly.
We're getting away with life.
When the gods notice, they'll put an end to it.
They'll have to, we're having too much fun.
There's not one demiurge, kids, we're all of us demiurges.
Call me Samael!

Call me Samael. Some years ago -- never mind how long precisely--
having little or no joy in my mind, and nothing particular to interest
me in Heaven, I thought I would sail about a little and see the
physical part of the universe.

(NOTE: Samael is the name of the demiurge in gnostic theology)