Down the uncouth arches of Kachikau heights it's all white,
Gathered are all who rose to sip the bitterness of the night
Who glanced through the sores of a block of air to see the dying light.
All they had is seeping through cracks too deep to sight
The shine fade like unmulched thoughts hit by waves of darkened days
The rest melts down through shafts of modernization
With bands of black crape we morn the death of our culture
We lament for the broken silver lining
With broken cranes we try to lift up our hopeless faces
In vain with broken cranes we lift our hopeless faces
The future is dying!
For without a path a way forward exist not
Without the past the future exist not