When reason is dead and the fools are made kings,

the wind will decline and the trees will stop singing

When balance is lost and silence is gold,

not much will remains of the truth that we told

When love is condemned and weakness is might,

then lonesome are we who succumb to the delight

When yielding is just and vassals adored,

then life will decline to upsurge no more



When pleasure and sorrow are pledged to be wed,

the sun and the moon will descend to be dead

When falsehood is honored for tainting truth,

the ending is near and our lives destitute

When comfort has died to leave room for remorse,

then hope is forlong both with kingdom and horse

But facing the end with a grin and a sword,

injustice will part to the sound of discord