We fell in love, with dust in our lids
And the pain of a severed soul
We lowered our heads and lifted our face

Placed our bodies in celebration
On the lips of a mutilated man
I carry the bones of a deformed child

And my own polluted breath
I speak the old man's words
In a persuasive eloquence

Bless the dust that hides
This unlamented head
On the crest of fire, our wings are burning

How glorious the pain
And the ways of God, shriek out of tune
All is lost but hope

On the crest of fire
Our wings are burning
To the wind's anthem

All is lost but hope