If the words fly away but the writings remain
Are we all that prone to the fear of forgetting?
Some of us try to keep safe every little thing we made
But delight seems to belong to those with short memory
Some say the four tigers devoured all men
The four winds swept them away
The four rains and waters overwhelmed them
And the four earthquakes will spell the end of our sun
Yet thеre are softer ways to disappеar

We'll be done with sawing off the branch we are sitting on
Long before a black hole swallows the orb
Utterly devoid of any patience our species is getting ready for the great auto-da-fé

We are not that prone to the fear of destroying

But thanks to the erasure of memories we all find a way to grieve more serenely

For delight seems to belong to those with short memory
Happiness appears to belong to those with short memory
For delight seems to belong to those with short memory
We'll be done with sawing off the branch we are sitting on
Long before a black hole swallows the orb
We'll be done with sawing off the branch we are sitting on
Sawing off the branch we are sitting on, we are sitting on