[Intro – Instrumental, mechanical pulse, distant metallic impacts, ticking clock ambience] [Verse 1 – Male vocal, low register, steady and authoritative] Ye lords of thought and earthly deed, O Hours — your face shines stern and dread, In crowns of dawn’s fierce, burning flame, Above the towers where power is bred. Your watchful eye in copper glows, Unerring, vigilant, severe, And Time’s own heart in bronze repose Barely stirs beneath the measured gear. [Pre-Chorus – Male vocal, restrained intensity, rhythm tightening] The iron arrow wakes your breath, Mysterious fates are set in place; Your prophetic chime proclaims to earth The distant laws of higher grace. [Chorus – Female vocal, clear, hypnotic, cold elegance] Yet shine and voice for fickle minds Flash bright — and fade without a trace, Like lightning words no one deciphers, Once burned before Belshazzar’s face. [Verse 2 – Female vocal, seductive tone, smooth phrasing] “Seize the fleeting moment now,” Sings flattery’s voice to its chosen one, “In it lie gold and scented honour, The final feast when day is done, Love’s last tryst, revenge so sweet.” [Bridge – Male vocal, dark, reflective, half-spoken] He never knows his hopes are dust, That Time’s cold breath sweeps clean away, And every pendulum’s quiet thrust Cuts down the flowers of faithless days. [Verse 3 – Male vocal, firm, accusatory delivery] He counts the careful steps of Time, Hears joyful chimes that call to play; The metal echo has not died — But where are you, dreamer, now, today? [Pre-Chorus 2 – Male vocal, rising tension, percussive emphasis] Is the boundless ocean truly bound By foaming crowns that fade in hours? Have children of a moment claimed Dominion over timeless powers? [Chorus – Female vocal, stronger, layered backing vocals] Yet shine and voice for fickle minds Flash bright — and fade without a trace, Like lightning words no one deciphers, Once burned before Belshazzar’s face. [Break – Instrumental, sudden drop, industrial noise swell, clock hit] [Verse 4 – Male vocal, intense, almost spoken-word] Mad is the cry: “I wish — I can!” Napoleon raised his defiant hand, Dreaming to halt the wheeling years With sword against the ages’ plan… [Build-Up – Male vocal, escalating, rhythm accelerating] It thundered past. Where is your blade? Where is your dust, proud demigod? Your fame — a desert storm of sand, Your trace — the scars where armies trod. [Final Chorus – Female vocal, cold, resolute, dominant over mix] Bright generations rise anew, They hear your tale with doubtful ear, And answer with a cold, restrained smile — No awe, no pity, and no tear. [Outro – Male and Female vocals together, male low and grounded, female distant and fading] [Fade out with slowing mechanical pulse and echoing chimes]
