It's a game of chance, a bet on luck
you ever wonder who holds the pot?
for the beginning is a reverse form of the end
another excuse for a new redemption.
Bigotry, melancholy and acceptance
that is the definition of this revolving world
the very characteristics of a god somewhere
when the new become old, another one is born
it's just a diversion on a one-way drive.
A tree fall down, a plant start growing
a man died somewhere, an infant start to suckle
there's nothing new under this big blue sky
time circle round without getting noticed
but the prints on the sand soon wash away.
Sexism, power and exorcism
nothing really change, only time do
nothing is really new, only improved
that's the only way balance is maintained.
A life without change call for extinction
because what time doesn't change, death will,
if you wrestle with time, you lose before time
for our actions will do and time will tell.
