White and black, the balance sways
The creaking blade, it’s judgment day
The taste of the forbidden fruit, quenching a dry throat
We, the foolish, can’t forget
Lies to uphold lies, righteousness behind righteousness
Burning in the conceit of aesthetics
The hungry heart seeking its next prey
Will bare its fangs before long, devouring sin and punishment alike
A world dyed in a madness of justice
A white, twisted Requiem
No longer able to laugh at the uncertain salvation
Can you hear it at the end of hell?
A black, gentle Serenade
The impure passion nearing its climax
The irony of madness, the future obscured in smoke
Now, who will be judged next?
Beautiful deception ingrained in the veneer, the arrogance of blind righteousness
The Paradox rising in the twilight
Is someone else’s misfortune sweet as honey? If you misstep, tomorrow will be your own
The surface and the underside, the truth is a Gradation
A world confused by unleashed justice
A faintly broken Requiem
We who can’t tolerate gray make mistakes again
In heaven, it can no longer be heard
A sweet, sorrowful Serenade
The precious inferiority, the lingering echo of pain
The melody of judgment, the future clouded
What is it that we believe in the end?
“Judge, Hand down.”
Is that white the truth? Is that black evil?
With contradictions without answers, where are we headed?
A world dyed in a madness of justice
A white, twisted Requiem
Though the bell of lamentation tolls, the Thesis never ends
Can you hear it at the end of hell?
A black, gentle Serenade
The impure passion nearing its climax
The irony of madness, the future obscured in smoke
Now, who will be judged next?