Lyric

The bell is wailing in the evening of the dead

At the bottom of the mirror, God has turned his head

A blood-like wind is licking through the town

Shadowed ideologies weave a lullaby down

Ah, the night begins its plea—

"Whose dream are you supposed to be?"

The rusted moon is carving memories thin

Equations of madness prove the tears within

Truth is sleeping deep inside the bone

Illusion dances, eating light alone

Trick or Truth—

This world is a masquerade of gods

Who wrote the definition of what it means to live?

A sinking brush, a black prayer to give

Words are blooming like a gravestone’s mark

Blooming, falling, losing names into the dark

"What is the meaning of life?"

—A mere illusion to understand the end

Light falls down, and time begins to blend

All that remains is the "Echo of Desire"

Truth embraces the corpse and starts to laugh

A prayer called "Halloween" echoes in the hollow path

Trick or Truth—

O masks that mock eternity, keep dancing on

The bell of Zero begins its chime

The end is but a mimicry of the start of time