Drops. Last drops of this rain.
Of all the rains on earth.
Flakes. First flakes will appear
As soon as everything calms down.

The crack of doom? No, there was not.
There was just falling snow.
Quietly and peacefully
All perished. Nothing more.

The one, the Immortal is left.
The last one among the grand decay,
Against the grand decay.
All had some doubts about his birth.
But now there’s no-one to doubt,
So He can feel free

Long dusk, long dusk
Before the longest night,
Long, long, colorless dusk
Devouring his body of no shape

From one place to another
Having empty chest
He wanders and wanders
From south to west.
From east to north
There is no-one to cry
About the injustice
Of those heaven above.
No-one to believe and disbelieve,
No-one to inspire him with life,
Without men there is no God -
Mad immortal bastard!

The dark, quiet world is left
Only for his majestic figure of mist,
For his insane new start.
Smashing the old covered with snow,
As there’s no-one to stop his hand
And he can feel free.

It’s me, who’s telling the story,
And I’m invisible yet
Now I am just the witness of what is going on.
But soon I’ll let him know:
He’s not alone
And it’s my turn to reign.

---

Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.