Softly the wind blows
Shuddering the trees
And blows away the leaves
The storm sets the tempo
Unenchantedly
And raises the sea
Oh to have been sent in chariots of fire
By the Olympian, bourgeois aristocracy
You had 'em marching on the top of the world
Daydreams and bad ideas
Settle in your brain
And ruin the day
When soft lies and elegies
Are all you have to breathe
Society remains
Time honors none but shrewd relentlessness alone
He told you fate had always followed in his stride
He had you marching on the top of the world
Softly the wind blows
All across your life
Scatters memories
Books opened wide enough
To show you what you missed
How it's all so temporary
When fallen pieces of a mountain land alive
You'll see the highest never slip away alone
They're always marching on the top of the world
Brightly the day breaks
And shines relentlessly
How time applauds the sun!
But clouds are born to hunt it
Fate has turned them grey
You're always on the run
Beware of men who say that they alone lead fate
The devil has the softest silver tongue
He'll have you marching on the top of the world
Softly the wind blows
Shuttering your eyes
And shatters all you see
Rain falls, and crumbling
You lose a mountain's peak
In the mean time, you'll be
Oh to have been born in chariots of gold
To apocryphal ghosts and demons on the hill
You're always marching on the top of the world
