Under the burned out skies of dark December
Lonely visions passed me by
It was a voice I heard that whispered softly and carried me away to a place of

fires and fallen angels

And in my final hour all was golden

Burned the buildings to the frozen ground
All that I saw was changed at once before me


And high above the fields I was filled with glorious delusions
Found today burning in the rafters as the walls began to fall
Hauled away a wall of angry faces round the instrument of gods


If I see Saint Lucilia walking on the water
I'll turn and walk away

And it's a fine line between the work of devils and of angels
And in the end it's all the same


After the flames died down I remember
Alone imprisoned by the force of hands
I waited til silence came to lay my head down

And in my darkest dreams I caught sight of the threads of my unmaking