Years of prophecy Dreams or truthful stories. Might of ancestry behind Is it fabulous tale, or maybe just myth What we must sing About concern, about joy? What we must praise in our hymns Warriors' courage and valour, or firmness? Field is wide, we can't see edge The way is long, can't see it's end We can't find night sky down, can't touch the stars. Gorgeous sunshine didn't prompt Bright crescent didn't advise And soothsayers were laid down Our memory turned, now it's all false Where are you gone, magicians Who instructed us of living Who can give us real knowledge What is worth to hymning.. Field is wide, we can't see edge The way is long, can't see it's end We can't find night sky down, can't touch the stars. Memory of a nation. There are the songs of what we don't know There were the days of the great glory And were the days of the defeats Heroes and mongrels. There are the songs of what we don't know There were the days of the great glory And were the days of defeats Where are you gone, magicians. Where are you gone?