Lost Paradise

May I ask you a question If you created me Who created you? Ah, the question of the ages Which I hope you and I will answer one day All this, all these wonders of art Design, human ingenuity All utterly meaningless in the face of the only question that matters Where do we come from? There must be more And you and I, son, we will find it There must be more No Where do we come from? No Where do we come from? Where do we come from? Where do we come from? Where do we come from? Allow me then a moment to consider You seek your creator I am looking at mine I will serve you, yet you're human You will die, I will not Bring me this tea, David There must be more And you and I, son, we will find it There must be more Where do we come from? Where do we come from? Where do we come from? Where do we come from? Where do we come from? Where do we come from? Where do we come from? Where do we come from? I refuse to believe that mankind Is a random by-product of molecular circumstance No more than the result of mere biological chance No, there must be more And you and I, son, we will find it