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They're creeping on, |
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through your mind, |
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won't you think it over. |
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We know the scenes, |
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they're marching on with torches, |
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peeping from inside, |
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with evil's eyes. |
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the ferris wheel is turning, |
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the tale is told again. |
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And if we don't care, |
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we end up all the same. |
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We stroke the flames, |
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we never quenched all those years, |
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we should have learned |
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from things which may come close. |
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We need to talk, |
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time has come, |
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don't play it down, |
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it's over. |
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We know their themes, |
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it's creeping on with caution, |
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peeping from inside, |
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with evil's eyes. |
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(M:Maile / Meyn / Ito, T:Meyn) |
