Ding the precursor of the
midnight hour
And Dong come merrily
From their eastern bower
To chime in unison :
Wring out the old, the weak, the
lame
Bring in the new, the young,
the bold
To play their part in life´s
unending game
Of seeking gold, incense and desire for power
Sing is the cantor of our
dreams
and Song the hope.