Текст песни
The sword of Damocles hangs low,
The end draws near, it waits below.
What must be born begins to grow—
The hour of reckoning comes slow.
It speaks, it judges, seals the woe.
A voice of stone from shadows deep,
Unmoved by all the tears I weep.
No zodiac can sway its keep,
No mortal fate disturbs its sleep—
It watches all, its watch is steep.
Like fog that parts to show the face,
The lines emerge from time and space.
The Inevitable comes to call,
It ever waits beyond the wall.
I heed this voice without reply,
No argument, no reason why.
The verdict falls from heaven high—
No justification can I cry,
No alibi to deceive the sky.
With these same hands I cast the stone,
With these same hands I'll reap what's sown.
Above us hangs what we have known—
No soul escapes the debt it owes,
And heavy interest must be thrown.
Like fog that parts to show the face,
The lines emerge from time and space.
The Inevitable comes to call,
It ever waits beyond the wall.
In judgment found, my soul grows light,
The scales tip toward the endless night.
I hear the voice that knows no spite—
My fear takes flight, my dust takes flight.
Like fog that parts to show the face,
The lines emerge from time and space.
The Inevitable comes to call,
It ever waits beyond the wall.
My fear takes flight,
My dust takes flight.
My fear takes flight,
My dust takes flight.
