It’s hard to trust in stars
When the sky is too far
It’s hard to hold a candle in the rain
It’s hard to keep believing when the people are all leaving
It’s hard to try when you know it’s in vain
But the clock keeps on ticking
And it’s not going to stop
It’ll tick on till it happens again
The neverending story of our demented glory
The ballad of the Children of Cain.
With dead placid eyes
We see the days going by
Our battleships in bottles recline
All our yesteryears’ flames
Have learnt how to be tame
It comes easy now to say all is fine.
But the clock is still-a-ticking
And it doesn’t stop and stare
It goes on keeping rhythm to the strain
Of the neverending tunes carrying far over the dunes
Of the ballad of the Children of Cain.
It’s hard to sing a song
In the gloating face of wrong
When the tear’s still hot in our eyes
But what you left in your wake
They’re not that easy to shake
off – It may falter but it never could die
And the clock is still ticking
It will tick when it’s all over
And the old tale is starting again
The moronic glory of this neverending story
Of the ballad of the Children of Cain.