Текст: Church. Kings.

See history fade, it's crystal clear
Aurora, what you doing here?
Buttering the mouths of thieves
Shutter speed your bleeding leaves

In gardens in the orient
Likelihood is good and spent
Herod nods beneath the palms
Holds poor baby in his arms

Tunis and Sardinia
The oceans growing hungrier
Beneath these walls we'll sleep tonight
Beneath this sky we'll glide so bright

And kings will come, years will pass
Stars burn cold beneath the glass
And days will glow in distant time
In this storied haze, the zephyrs graze

In deserts where the dust storm blows
And lush black swamps where mandrake grows
We're marching laughing to the drum
Waiting for those kings to come

And kings will come and years will pass
Stars burn cold beneath the glass
And days will blow in distant time
In this storied haze, the zephyrs graze

An infant with the voice of a crone
In Nebuchanezzars parking zone
Calls out my Lord, your end is nigh
I didn't mean to make you cry

In deserts where the dust storm blows
And lush black swamps where mandrake grows
We're marching laughing to the drum
Waiting for those kings to come

The circus sun in Nero eyes
The lions and the Christians rise
Software sings and hardware hears
We're destined babe to live these years