Under the burned out skies of dark December

Lonely visions passed me by

It was a voice I heard that whispered softly and carried me away to a place of fires and fallen angels



And in my final hour all was golden

Burned the buildings to the frozen ground

All that I saw was changed at once before me



And high above the fields I was filled with glorious delusions

Found today burning in the rafters as the walls began to fall

Hauled away a wall of angry faces round the instrument of gods



If I see Saint Lucilia walking on the water

I'll turn and walk away

And it's a fine line between the work of devils and of angels

And in the end it's all the same



After the flames died down I remember

Alone imprisoned by the force of hands

I waited til silence came to lay my head down

And in my darkest dreams I caught sight of the threads of my unmaking