There is no truth in this world And the lies dressed in gaudy cloak Preside over lavish feast of triumph At the high tables of the lords.
And the truth is tramped into the mud By the boots of the cheering hordes, And the festival seems to have no end, And there is no truth in this world.
There is no truth in this world And the lies in their crowns of fool’s gold Toast the health of the sluggish death At the high tables of the lords.
And the truth stands at the road-side And cries the fate of the exultant hordes Or is she rotting in some dungeon cell For there is no truth in this world.
There is no truth in this world There is no truth in this world There is no truth in this world There is no truth in this world
There is no truth in this world, But the cap is set and fuse is short, And the hammer casts its cruel shade Over high tables of the lords.
And the end will come in flaming wreath, And it will consume the motley hordes. For as we all know that festivals must end Even if there is no truth in this world.