Из альбома: What the Toll Tells
Gather 'round you wounded people;
Shadows fall upon the steeple
Soon shall come the closing of,
The closing of the gates
For there is word of plague among us
Curse the one whose poison stung us
All along they alleyways the satyrs wait their fate
But who's to blame when all are guilty;
Morals stained and conscience filthy,
Abreast your idol replicas, your replicas of lust
In the sky I hear the threshing
Dare to watch your lord undressing
While you beg forgiveness you feed on his disgust
But if perhaps the salt might stain your skin,
And if perhaps the smoke might weep your eyes,
Listen while the threnodies begin
Know no one in here gets out alive
But let your frailty not deceive you;
A little pinprick, rest relieves you,
And dream of all the days that are,
The years that are to come
For you will dance and you'll be nimble pirouettes
Upon a thimble and I will be beside you lest I lose you once again
But if perhaps my sorrows are all show
And I should find a crack among the gates,
Guilt shall follow me where ever I go
Though I try I know I can't escape
And when you're gone the earth will crumble
I will try but I will stumble and all through these city
Streets my robes shall drag the ground
Hear the children swing with sorrow
Yesterday was once tomorrow
No more I'll be troubled by the troubles of this world
But if I lose my step along the way,
And if the speech of victim fills my throat,
Out beyond the cliffs that shape the day
It's there I'll wander, there I'll stray
It's there I'll look for you when all my trials are done
I feign to sleep to save my breath
This love is loss this life is theft,
And all that's left is some vain need to carry on
And though I fear the tightening of the skies,
Against the dawn I'll watch you rise
Oh lord, the company I keep within my head
The scent of flesh might tease the nose
It claims the calm it clings the clothes
Could that be you my love, your dust upon the wind?