Birth and growth: a graceful low-altitude flight,
A discovery grasped tightly in hand.
Our cells are bootleg, our companion roulette,
An advantage born of going ’round in circles.
We go on with our beloved Darwin.
Never evolving,
We’re in the midst of returning to our origins.
We brag with ambiguity as our weapon,
Reborn to spiky seeds.
Damage and recovery: a daring game of survival,
A once in a lifetime adventure.
Succession and descent: a lofty calling,
The unchallenged position we’ve longed for.
This is no time to be yawning!
Tonight is the night
For the century plant to bloom proudly, in full glory!
We’ll give our first and final cry,
Reborn to spiky seeds.
Let’s go! Let’s live!
Tonight is the night
For the century plant to bloom proudly, in full glory!
Our first and final cry is in F# minor.
Never evolving,
We’re in the midst of returning to our origins.
We brag with ambiguity as our weapon,
Reborn to spiky seeds.