The sun, The sun,
the sun will die.
It will disappear
from the morning sky.
Then Earth will be dark,
and very, very cold.
Just like in the long
forgotten days of old.
Plants will wither,
and birds will fall,
when eternal darkness
consumes them all.
Men and beasts alike
will howl and cry
for the lost light,
alone and helpless,
cursing their plight.
Then we will come,
creatures of dark and cold,
just as in the long
forgotten days of old.
We will be the ones
who will inherit
the dying Earth,
and everything left on it,
everything with worth.
Our Age has begun
with the long-awaited
death of the sun.
We roam the world
when it is cold and dark,
when all the light is gone
and has no more spark.
The only happy life on
the whole barren planet.
We like the dark,
the cold, the quiet.
The sun, the sun,
the sun will die.
disappearing from
the morning sky.
Then in darkness
we will finally come,
taking over the Earth
you thought you'd won,
upon the death of
the light-filled sun.
