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
More Cleansing the tainted face of reason
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