The apocalypse, it's on the tips, it's on the tips of your tongue's and it's burning, the galaxy it grows and we'll never know, we'll never know and our world keeps on turning, ash, volcanic snow, a world growing old, we're growing old and the stars they are glowing, The Cosmos speak to me we're not alone, we're not alone but the signs are not showing.
It will never be meant for me to see life beyond the reach of Cosmic Sea
such a sight to see, it won't appear to me

how long do we refuse to see
how long
soul set free, cast into the sea

we're going away going away
it will never be meant for me to see
we're going away going away