From the highest part of their towers made by gold
The mighty ones observe with satisfaction the ending of the world
They're engaged to show to lenses matching ties and smiling faces
Or, at the most, to shake their hands with the ones of their worst enemies

But they're not the ones who will lose their life across the streets
Too much young men will be ready to do it instead of them
But, from their candour, they are leaving out an important thing
They're handled by their enemies

Between the dust and through the clouds
You will see the people dying
And the blood that they she'd to fight for this world
Will mark forever these words in the sky
"The last goddess will not have to die!"

But history repeats itself another time

So now I ask myself "But doesn't should be better
If all these damned wars were be fought
By the dorks that give rise to them?"

Bodies now are lying upon the sidewalks without life
I've seen my generation broken off forevermore
So what could have been their last thoughts before the end?
"I didn't do it to finish so, but to have not stand no more"

But now they cannot think no more
'Cause maybe someone stopped them

Between the dust and through the clouds
You will see the people dying
And the blood that they she'd to fight for this world
Will mark forever these words in the sky
"The last goddess will not have to die!"