| Come forth, pass the gate beyond the beating heart
|
| Witness the void we should all be giving in
|
| In the glory of the despotic king
|
| Hear now how the world begins to sing
|
| These are the end times of the thoughtful mind
|
| Kneel down before the light for thee may
|
| Never stand up
|
| Or attempt to resist
|
| Son of the morning, face for the unjust
|
| Demise of everything thee blindly trust
|
| Reclaim thy will, regain thy sight
|
| For he shall bring no light
|
| Thus fade the vast seas of shallow values
|
| Son of the morning, face for the unjust
|
| Demise of everything thee blindly trust
|
| There’s the rise, there’s the fall
|
| Nothing more, that is all
|
| Conflicts exist to change the order
|
| To rotate the stones of the absolute
|
| Thy faith reflects nothing but a stain
|
| On the surface of a feeble convention
|
| In a world where all souls are blessed
|
| By an equal amount of pain and death |