The inexorable march of time will grind our weary bones to dust
In its wake, a great shadow looms overhead
A specter of rebirth, a cyclical obsolescence

To no end, life from loam
To no end
To no end, life from loam
To no end
Don't you find comfort in inevitability

That one day your organs are evicted
And worms will squat their place?
That one day, there will be no days
As the sun explodes?

That one day, no day, the cosmos freeze over?
And nothing will be, and nothing will be
And nothing will be, and nothing will be
And nothing will be, and nothing will be
Serene