Same old song and dance By Tales of Anima The end of the world, A familiar song Water, earth, ice, and fire, The composer's instruments Innocent eyes look around, How? A cataclysm looks back Why? Tired feet and weary bones; This number is old to me Virgin ears and youthful souls! This routine is nothing new The end of the world, A familiar song Life, death, peace, and war, It's nothing new My Apocalypse By zebra The end of my world cannot be predicted by Mayans or Evangelics or Crazies. My world ends when your moon-face no longer lights up my sky with freckle-stars. The end of my world cannot be exacted by me, at least. My world will end when your tree-limbs no longer entangle my body, when your wind-whisper no longer tickles my ears, when your earthen-heart no longer quakes upon my breast.