The moth, a madman, knows this burning,
The moth beholds the flame,
Where next, it does not dream,
Its journey's end is here,
The moth that burns, it is,
The moth beholds the flame,
Where next, it does not dream,
Its journey's end is here,
The moth that burns, it is,
The moth that burns, it is,
So too you must burn,
As the moth is consumed,
Let this bond not break, though hearts ignite,
So too you must burn,
As the moth is consumed,
But how does this come to be?
If the flame is gone, where will it go?
The moth beholds the flame,
Where next, it does not dream,
Its journey's end is here,
The moth that burns, it is,
The moth that burns, it is.
Like a mad thing, it flies,
And falls upon the flame,
A lover knows this dance of fate,
Like a mad thing, it flies,
And falls upon the flame,
Yet still, it laughs and sings,
If the flame is gone, where will it go?
The moth beholds the flame,
Where next, it does not dream,
Its journey's end is here,
The moth that burns, it is,
The moth that burns, it is,
The moth that burns, it is.
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