Touch me three times with your magic wand

I will tell you the tale, my lord:



The one about the apocalypse

No more sun, no more dreams

Only dark, desert and cold lands

The stars will, die, the moon will be frost

Evil shall prevail, with pain and eternal suffering

Invisible forcers will keep you

Burning in the endless fire



You will never find the door to the eternal kingdom



But there is that other one

Who's name is never pronounced

Banished form Hell, from every kingdom

From every book

When time comes for the throes of death

He will be the apocalyptic king

The sword piercing your heart

He will bewitch your mind

He will keep you awake

In fear and the unknown

He is, my lord, your eternal wandering