Man’s days will soon be vaporized histories
All because a senseless desolation will reigns
After the ceremony of the nuclear rain
Earth’s landlords escorted by their landladies
And tenants will be gone into the windless terrain
Beyond the border mountains beyond styx

Armageddon’s happy harvesters will come
Only to reap an empty grey field:
They will stand in their angelic bewilderment
And gazing upon the wide emptiness
They will ask from the echoless quietness
The whereabouts of the humans:
Michael Angelo and his silvery heavenly hosts
Will stand dumbfound in their angelic gaze
Upon the wide barrenness and the quiet haze
While greeted by remnant of archeological ghosts
Shattered fossils of man’s meaningless histories
Buried underneath piles of radioactive madness

Shame how man’s days will steam away into nothing.

The wide fields of the world will once again theirs,
“the Alpha and the Omegas,”
They will regrow the beauty blossoms of Eden
But will still search in angelic vain
The entire cobwebs of the solar planetary
And find no trace of the descendants of Adam and Eve

Pity how by our own hands our world will vaporize into nothing
For after the nuclear doom of our own mastery
We all will be gone into the beyond border mountains beyond styx.