Oh summer winds and breezy tides,
Wouldn't thou please stay?
The sounds of sleeping symphony
Across the land doth play?
Oh, no fair child, say the winds
For in time we too shall rest,
The sounds of nature are changing now,
And we leave you with our best.
Oh, no, sweet little, whispers the sea,
For we surely must depart.
Something old is dying now,
But something new shall start.
Oh silent moon and choking dusts,
Thou art the home of me,
But I remember a world long past
That stretched before the sea.
This world is alive and breathing now,
But a wound claws at its breast.
For while we sleep among the dusts,
The dusts fade like the rest.
The body of chaos lives and plots,
And evil walks the land.
But evil's doom in on the march
And his name is the Jacket Man.
From another place and forgotten time,
This man shall brave the door.
And when the world is turning slow,
He'll march his troops to war.
The Jacket Man, they named him so,
And the wicked souls all knew
That though the stories seemed unreal,
The darkest ones were true.
When the wheels of change are turning
There is no turning back.
The purest light is brightest
In the deepest, truest black.
The time of gods is soon and near,
But soon the tides shall turn.
For the gods will know their final end
When the Jacket Man returns.
