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Moth and a candle, frenzied it flies
Sole mad obsession, certain demise
There, a dim fire,
Steady the wheel
Below the wreckage scrapes at the keel
Walk the field of endless doors
At every step they implore

Lethe waters
The quiet drum
Endless marching
Of forgetting ones
Just the next turn now
Just the next bend
It can't be much further
Where this road ends
There, in the distance
You hear it call?
But what we are after
Who can recall?
Walk the field of endless doors
At every step they implore

Lethe waters
The quiet drum
Endless marching
Of forgetting ones

Lethe waters
The quiet drum
Slow marching
Of forgetting ones

Lethe waters
The quiet drum
Endless marching
Of forgetting ones

Lethe waters
The quiet drum
Endless marching
Of forgetting ones

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