Cocoon

It is from the order of succession in nature

And not from the ever lasting endurance of her works

That we may expect the reign of perpetual activity

In her wide domains

In her living kingdom

The ravages of decay and death

Are eternally repaired by the birth

Of new represantatives of life

As lands will vanish and appear above the waters

We are alone

And under cold stone

We rot

So afraid

So afraid

Of change

Still we serve

Still we serve

The origin of worlds

The matter saved from such mighty wrecks

Will again be available for useful ends

The forces which seem destroyed

Only assume other forms to participate

In new movements and operations

We are alone

And under cold stone

We rot

So afraid

So afraid

Of change

Still we serve

Still we serve

The origin of worlds

I can see

A face split in a grin

And I see

A dream that did not come true

And all according to the plan

We are deer

Expected at the rear end of our own objective

All we were and are and will be

Serves the origin of worlds

Serves the origin of worlds

Serves the origin of worlds

Serves the origin of worlds