Enchained to a shadow of the past
he walks the path of life
following the same quest, like a ghost
silly lover, silly romance, how pathetic
constant, permanent, disenchantment

She will be called Moonskin
and she will have the beauty of the marble
hair dancing like flames
around her snow-white shape

Enchained to the Venus spell
he left the reason behind
defiling the garden, forcing the passage
going to the bottom, to steal the end
to shake, to shake death's hand

Once again illusion fades away, once again he is falling
as the milky stream of life goes dying

She was called Moonskin
now she is no more, but a round bright sphere
in his night
floating in a timeless place

Enchained to a shadow of the past
he walks the path of life
carrying that old story like a cross
on which he will, on which he may
nail another star

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