Staring there, leaning to the city moon
Casting silhouettes tall to
Cool
To slit the grinning wounds from childhood's seven moons
The palette
Towards the rich archaic heavens
Towards the lack diorama
You are the
Mankind, the conqueror and King
Swings the flag of primal glory
Rush faster on the one way lane
The answers so silent
Rusty
I lie in your soothing arms, Lord Hypnos
Your garment alive
Tried of dull ages, I walk the same ground
Collecting the
[Instrumental]
[instrumental]