Byzantium by Kansas
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
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