Forgotten ash, children of the urn Lifeless song from lifeless choir Unavenged ghosts begging to return As foreshadows of holy anger Silhouettes of wrath divine I am the moth of demonic hunger That ageless thirst for the poisoned wine The grave is feeding, devouring; inhaling whirls of life As monuments of stone and copper are being raised along my spine Now rise and sing with joy, for I come With glad tidings of pious ire and gospels of rushing death A lump of flesh evolved by fire and with blunt trauma blessed I am the shadow, the great ox standing upon your chest As the last ride is growing higher Never again shall the flood rest Anthems of ash Nothing left to burn Long-dead psalm from long-dead fire Faith beyond death: Children of the urn In heatless rites of absolution and inverted alchemy Shall I turn these angels of prostitution Into demons of chastity For I am winter, the blind snow! Yes I am the dead tree But only that which was never born Can truly be considered free And every eye shall bleed and then shut So, take this bell and ring it in the darkness Stand and greet its backwards dawn Give praise and sing for the blind with gladness While I unhinge my jaws The boils are bleeding, festering – Does Job fear God for naught? Or will we find the light revealing That in this realm I am but a thought? Now gather round, for I come With a new light from an old tongue