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 remain 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 honoured for tainting the truth
The ending is near and our lives destitute
When comfort has died to leave room for remorse
Then hope is forlorn both with kingdom and horse
But facing the end with a grin and a sword
Injustice will part to the sound of discord