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The prophecies convey a frightful end

All these sins are written in blood

Unable to ignore

The sands of time are running low

A black hole in which our time was born

The scales of life are dreadfully shorn

The sands of time are running low

Annihilation tends to mold the results

But our brilliancy will hang at the end of the rope

The prophecies convey a frightful end

All these signs are written in blood

Unable to ignore

The sands of time are running low

The sands of time are running low