stella was a good girl
stella was a whore
stella disappointed us
we'll see her no more

hopkins knew his maker
hopkins felt the scourge of light
like jacob wrestling with the angel
he lost that fight

lunacharsky commissar
bolshevik mystic visionary
not all things are material
some are illusionary

and you and i who once believed
in god and man and history
we became those things we hated
we wish for mystery

stella was a good girl
stella was a whore
stella could not help us
we wanted more

the magi travelled hopefully
expecting the world to come;
we are not wise men, kings,
belief leaves us numb.

the magi crossed wildernesses
guided by holy light;
holy light is what we wanted
useless without sight

the magi gave gifts of gold
frankincense and myrrh;
good and bad and right and wrong
- we see a blur

the magi travelled hopefully
to greet the new-found king;
we have no theses to contest
nor psalms to sing

we once believed our pole star
would guide us through the night
there is no structure of belief
no one true light