Through the corridors of time, we travelled,
centuries, they were like flowers, wildly growing,
then wind and dust take over---------
not more wiser we were, quess we saw to much.
Now we're here again, stumbling round,
trying to get
Oh, where the Goddess dwell, the rivers flow in peace,
and the dawn is the worst there is-------
In a golden age, deep in future, we…
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