| Look to sunrise man tell me what you see
|
| The eagle has flown underground abandoned
|
| You abonded me
|
| Fifty two falling stars are burning up the sky
|
| Blazing torch falls to the ocean bottom where
|
| Black predictions lie
|
| Have you faith in scripture visions of kings
|
| Reaper of reality your destiny the sisters sing
|
| Vultures scavenge the subsconsious of your mind
|
| Their ally is time for you to fall and yield
|
| Your mind to the cynic
|
| They should be held so high and not looked
|
| Down upon
|
| They are the root of the country. |
| The roots
|
| So firm and tranquil, when will the spirits be
|
| Welcomed, listen the music is heard again
|
| When there are lofty high roof tops carved
|
| Walls and yielding crops
|
| When the palace is wild for lusting. |
| When
|
| The forest if wild for hunting. |
| Existance
|
| Of anyone thing has never been but the
|
| Prelude to ruin
|
| Wars and temper tantrums are the make-
|
| Shifts of ignorance
|
| Regrets illuminate to late. |
| Depth beyond sin
|
| Is fathomed
|
| Wandering through the devils field sowing
|
| His seed
|
| Guardian angel guide us through the night
|
| We compel
|
| His long constant fight. |
| the moerea they call
|
| Your destiny the sisters all of three
|
| Clotho she spun the web to live the
|
| Thread so tentative. |
| Lachesis she measured
|
| Out the years. |
| Atropos cuts the thread
|
| With her shears
|
| Time Time Time an imaginary line mine not
|
| Yours nor yours mine
|
| They lead the blind back to mothers womb
|
| Tomb of the unborn child
|
| Coming events cast their shadows before
|
| Wintery wind the eye of the storm witness
|
| The past the future
|
| Holds more prelude to ruin |