Scorngrain No Funeral For The Last
::One-handed, deformed pianist in an empty canteen::
Last human being is standing, waiting for an answer in vain.
Not knowing that there is no-one left, that it´ s just him to raise a Cain.
Gardener of all remaining life trying to find dirt for his seeds.
For one standing in a desert only dreams of poor soil with weeds.
Reaching for the past. Try turning the time.
The future will give no funeral for the last.
None had time for a goodbye before the big Caboom.
Soup was left on the plate and rust covered the spoon.
Reaching for the past. Try turning the time.
The future will give no funeral for the last
The great men of nations, tyrants in their towers.
Warlords of their age, lusting for land of no use.
Unity under empire, for thousand years to come.
Countdown to the end started from the invention of a wheel.
Who would ever thought that an Antichrist was made of shining steel.
::The End::
