Time plays a gloomy grandfather clock Within a veil of steam, lost in ecstasy In a skyscraper towering to hoard gold bullion It's a masquerade every night
The illusory metropolis, layered with gold leaf on rusted brass, Collapses and falls. The princess laments the compensation for this world's pitiful golden age, Adorning her body with Romanesque vanity, Only to be burnt and become naked for the first time.
If you decipher the revelation from the stars, You will be led to an even greater world. The primordial, revealed words: "The ending world" The hidden, prophetic words: "The emerging world" The flickering flame, the universal element: Ether The void of reincarnation, the paired Akasha The sleeping life, the astral phantom Spell out "Ripika" – an idea of self.
The old parchment of the Hanging Gardens, left by my father, Smells of osmanthus. The bleeding ink was the final message, Penned at the moment of death: "My wise daughter, my era is ending. Please weave the bleak future."
Is it the fate of all who so easily seek status and honor To only fall and decay?
(Chorus Repeat)
The existence of God bewilders us. If you seek, cling to, and worship, you will be saved. Before we knew it, people stopped evolving. Her decorated carriage flickers in the bonfire's light. Illuminate the city with the golden steam.