Holy truth unholy kind Searching every ruined house Teasing every ruined mind Holy words unholy lies In the visions of tomorrow On the grimace of the skies
I can sing the songs Of all the seasons passed I can tell the stories Of slaves and masters I can play with time And tear the souls apart And possess the burden To be the last one
And the whole dying world will forget me again All my dreams and my fears and faces and names In this time of no color I do what I can In the time when the story ends (c)