Brent Eaton - The Dot lyrics

We are alone on this stage in a vast cosmic arena Think of all the rivers of blood spilled by the generals and emperors So that in glory and triumph they could become momentary masters of a dot Think of the endless men fighting and dying for a God they're not sure exists War and famine at what price? We tell ourselves what we're doing is right But we're so f**ing wrong How frequent our misunderstandings How eager we are to k** Look back at the pale blue dot And try to convince yourself God created the universe for a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam