Touch me three times with your magic wand
I will tell you the tale, my lord:

The one about the apocalypse
No more sun, no more dreams
Only dark, desert and cold lands
The stars will, die, the moon will be frost
Evil shall prevail, with pain and eternal suffering
Invisible forcers will keep you
Burning in the endless fire

You will never find the door to the eternal kingdom

But there is that other one
Who's name is never pronounced
Banished form Hell, from every kingdom
From every book
When time comes for the throes of death
He will be the apocalyptic king
The sword piercing your heart
He will bewitch your mind
He will keep you awake
In fear and the unknown
He is, my lord, your eternal wandering