Too many stars fall on our eyes Useless words get wasted every moment To protect lazy religions I feel my heart getting inflamed with blood While the sand-glass slowly turns to Stupid pawns programmed for breathing Everything looks unchanged: The solution of an aenigma which is late in coming
An umpteenth godlike creature Leading you to Toyland Where everything, everything smells of sadness And nothing allows you to look at it
But are we the ones who thoroughly move Thanks to the promise of another frame Before we start dying once again?