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"City resting on a hill Can your walls repel the tide of change Under Pantocrator's rule Did your golden domes reveal The frailty of the consequence The conqueror was real Where the Emperor once reigned Only shadows of the glories remain No one sings your plaintive song Of the Kontakion strain Echoing through heaven's gate Too lovely to sustain We're looking back to see your frescoed walls Where is the road that takes us to Byzantium Once your borders had no end And your dream was like a shining light To the nations you surround Did your golden domes reveal The frailty of the consequence The conqueror was real We're looking back to see your frescoed walls Where is the road that takes us to Byzantium... We're looking back to see your frescoed walls Where is the road that takes us to Byzantium... "