Woven into silver starlight, Are the hopes and dreams Of all those who dare to believe
In the dense darkness of night, Candles stay alight Although their wicks shorten, And their flames dwindle, The candles burn on, Pillars of light To guide the lost
Won't you have a little bite Of the poison apple, my dear?
At the stroke of midnight, My reign comes to a melancholy end I set off on the long, lonely journey home, To wipe off all the glitter and grime once again
Within my mind, A dense shroud of fog Obscures an unthinkable reality