If the world is old, dark, fallen and strained
|
Are we then dim souls
|
The songless ones, the faint
|
We¡¯re not ones for falling, we¡¯re not ones for dying, we¡¯re not waiting
|
Maybe this is the last time, maybe this is our only time, maybe this is the last time
|
How can we risk not knowing the end of night?
|
In the hour of longing we will spark a myriad of lights
|
|
-----------------
|
The Last Time
|
| The Myriad |
