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Lyrics
Wheel of fire, turning high,
Shadow rises, angels cry,
Luck and loss entwined as one,
Under moon, beneath the sun.
Voices chant in coded streams,
Digital fate, electric dreams,
Hearts awaken, lights collide,
Fortune falls — the tide decides.
O Fortuna, nova, nova,
Pulse of chaos, supernova,
O Fortuna, vox divina,
Burns within the code, machina.
Fall to rise, and rise to fall,
In your spin we lose it all,
Hands of time — they never cease,
Breaking faith to forge release.
O Fortuna, nova, nova,
Dance of fate, eterna nova,
O Fortuna, vox divina,
Echoes through the night — machina.
The idea#
Carmina Burana’s old terror of chance rewired: wheel of fire, luck and loss entwined, “Digital fate, electric dreams.” The Latin cries—O Fortuna, nova, nova… vox divina… machina—make fortune sound like both goddess and operating system. Hands of time never cease; faith breaks so that release can be forged.
Dark-uplifting trance is apt for a wheel that rises only to fall. I hear medieval dread speaking through coded streams—the same spinning injustice, now with a motherboard heartbeat. Chaos as supernova: not comfort, but the honesty that tide decides.
