In the falling out of the doomsday crowd
Wracked again by indecision, should we make that small incision?
Never turns again
The tyrant's voice is softer now but just for one forgiving hour
Deep and black, smoke and ash
I come to you in restless sleep where all your dreams turn bittersweet
I've to come tonight, I've come to know the way we are, the way we'll go
And to measure this width of the wide abyss
The crooked raft that leaves the shore, ferries drunken souls aboard
Down the path of shame it led us dare to bite the hand that fed us
Pilgrims march to compostle visions of their Saint in yellow
The wicked King of Parody is kissing all his enemies
With voodoo doll philosophies day glow holy trinities
Before the rise of his iron fist again, fist again
The heretic is beautified, teach the Harlot's child to smile
The worst of it is come and gone in the chaos of millennium
Found a cul-de-sac deep and black, smoke and ash
Fairy tale the moral end, wheel of fortune never turns again
Their last retreat is moving slow, they burn their bridges as they go
We cart, we scratched, we ran, we slashed and when he opened up at last
Follow deep in trance lost in a catatonic dance
Testify to the bleeding heart inside
On the seventh day of the seventh week
