|
As time grows to be my reaper |
|
I leave my mark behind |
|
And history will be my keeper |
|
But I am still alive. |
|
And where the ancient kings are buried |
|
New kings will rise and stand |
|
And so the torch is always carried |
|
Passed from hand to hand. |
|
In the night it is all we care for |
|
And we all play our part |
|
Enslaved is our passion and therefore |
|
We hide it in the dark. |
|
And where the ancient kings are buried |
|
New kings will rise and stand |
|
And so the torch is always carried |
|
Passed from hand to hand. |
|
And where the ancient kings are buried |
|
New kings will rise and stand |
|
And so the torch is always carried |
|
Passed from hand to hand. |
|
And where the ancient kings are buried |
|
New kings will rise and stand |
|
And so the torch is always carried |
|
Passed from hand to hand. |
