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