City resting on a hill

Can your walls repel the tide of change

Under Pantocrator's rule

Did your golden domes reveal

The frailty of the consequence

The conqueror was real 



Where the Emperor once reigned

Only shadows of the glories remain

No one sings your plaintive song

Of the Kontakion strain

Echoing through heaven's gate

Too lovely to sustain 



We're looking back to see your frescoed walls

Where is the road that takes us to Byzantium 



Once your borders had no end

And your dream was like a shining light

To the nations you surround 

Did your golden domes reveal

The frailty of the consequence

The conqueror was real 



We're looking back to see your frescoed walls

Where is the road that takes us to Byzantium...



We're looking back to see your frescoed walls

Where is the road that takes us to Byzantium...