[Simon again finds himself on the moor by the burned village, clutching the Scriptures in his right hand. In the cold and quiet of the starless night he kneels by a singing stream. Silently he releases the remains of his God.]

[Simon:]
The scriptures leave my hand
And are scattered by the wind
Still to me it seems the music may begin
The voices far away sing of virtue and of sin
Still to me it seems that
I could never turn into another
Hiding under cover
I am my own lover

[The Scarecrow:]
All the words that have been spoken
Empty promises lie broken
You try to change me
Like my mother wanted to
Still I stand but stand forgotten
A maggot crawling for the bottom
You try to change me
Like my brother wanted to

[Simon:]
My hungry eyes grow dim
As the scarecrow stops and kneels
Still to me he seems the only who believes
Reflections of my life
I see in what he thinks and feels
Still to me it seems that
I could never turn into another
Hiding under cover I am my own lover

[The Murderer:]
All the words that have been spoken
Empty promises lie broken
You try to change me
Like my mother wanted to
Still I stand but stand forgotten
A maggot crawling for the bottom
You try to change me
Like my brother wanted to

[Insight hits him like a train and he flees the village, scaling the first hills of the mountain range, ever climbing upwards to find a way across the barrier of stone. But cold rain pains his face and he takes shelter in a small cave. There he meditates on his malice.]