For they are quick and ruthless punishers
For they are strong and angry jealous ones
And sing the poems, free the butterflies
Pray your Gods who ask you for your blood
I fear my time is short
I feel my body weakened by the years
As people turn to Gods of cruel design
Or lay upon my altar now your love
Or lay upon my altar now your love
So lay your olive arms upon my breast
Fear my day is done
Pray your Gods who'll hold you by your fear
Be quick, my love
Is it that they fear the pain of death?
Or could it be they fear the joy of life
There are armies moving close
There are armies moving on
