Crucified millions go to mass every day. To earn from God their moral wages. Their world is dying, for forgiveness they pray. Yet meanwhile the battle rages.
Stained glass horizon. Trapped in tombs of day. No energy to run. Nowhere to escape. . Fortune left behind you. Blank dice is your gain. Opium moon is rising.
Lifeblood flows down the rivers of sorrow. Love a distant dream we've left behind. Utopic fortunes we see in tomorrow. Blind illusions as all hope fades and dies.
Dark oceans we cry, writhing in the misery. Cast spit upon the love that lay at our feet. The intrigue of pain we crave it's mystery. Neglect to explore the depths to sanctity.
The evil priest is calling me again. I stare into these walls and he comes through. Clergy of the damned, surround me, pointing hands. On my knees, I fall to their command.
In this magnetic hole, descension, the only quest. Our lips are green within the burial of life itself. Oh, glorious misery caress this emptiness. [Incomprehensible] truths as a whole in this vacuum, a negative gift.
Walking away behind the mirror of nighttime. I'm coming home. Sailing to you aboard a ship of phantoms. Am I the only one?. . Is this a dream, is it a nightmare?.