May I ask you a question
If you created me
Who created you?
Ah, the question of the ages
I refuse to believe that mankind is a random by-product of circumstances
No more than the result of mere biological chance
No, there must be more
All this
All these wonders of art, design
All utterly meaningless in the face of the only question that matters
The question of the ages
You and I, we will find it
The question of the ages
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
I refuse to believe that mankind is a random by-product of circumstances
No more than the result of mere biological chance
No, there must be more
All this
All these wonders of art, design
All utterly meaningless in the face of the only question that matters
The question of the ages
You and I, we will find it
The question of the ages