Two-Thousand Seasons
[Verse]
How have we come to be mere mirrors to annihilation
And who do we aspire to reflect our people's death
For whose entertainment shall we sing our agony
In what hopes?
That the destroyers aspiring to extinguish us
Will suffer conciliatory remorse at the sight of their own fantastic success
The last imbecile that dreams such dreams is dead
Killed by the saviors of his dreams
[Outro]
How have we come to be mere mirrors to annihilation
How have we come to be mere mirrors to annihilation