Cold moon rides in the skies, like a gloomy still life
And from dusty old pages, I read the tales
Secret ancient legacies by an artist’s hands come.
For most eyes not to see one can’t deny 'em
The glimpse of twilight and the immortal dreams by the sea
What dwells just for now can be eternal
Become witnesses of all unconceivable secrets and symbols of our Mother Nature
Novus Ordo Seclorum comes from ancient papyri and the deepest of the roots grants forever
One split a thin bread in 2 thousand and 40 pieces and those could become Spirits of Time
As I turn these old pages, the night is shrouding on
And the chariot of crowned child brings the first light
Then I learn how to teach by the act of shut up, closing doors of my life for human nature