And so, the radiant hues of the morning
Will light up the faces of stone.
Parading the feeble jewels that they've gathered
Along their torturous road
And he who offers life to this wasteland
Will dance with the mistress of dust
A waltz of sparse and strange orchestration
Yet no man will be there to watch.
This land, this age and its gods dissasemble
The essence of heroes bygone.
My lords do not mistake me for (a) craven
As I mistook you for lords
And so, we've come as envoys of dreamlands
Across oceans of infinite time
To find that man is not to our liking
Yet somehow we've lost our way home.
And he who offers life to this wasteland
Will dance with the mistress of dust
A waltz of sparse and strange orchestration
Yet no man will be there to watch
This land, this age and its gods dissasemble
The essence of heroes bygone.
My lords do not mistake me for (a) craven
As I mistook you for lords