One more time,
one more reason.
One more crime,
one more treason.

Who said I'd say
that everything would be this way?
I don't know much at all,
but at least I'm not the one to fall.

Marie: Antonette, my love. Please don't go. I know this moment has profound mine feelings. But it is unlike you.
Please admit my reasonings.

Memories, they guide me
throughout the dark.
Thinking of your whispering reverie.

Out in the silence,
I hear your melody.
How could I have been so naive?

With nothing to hold on to;

The beauties of the skies,
where our souls reside.
No one will ever know.
No shadow will ever show.

It's the beauty of the skies
where the winds help us glide
To our dreams unknown,

They told him we don't wanna see your face around here
Don't wanna see your pitiful face, won't shed a tear.
There's fire in their eyes, he'd better get a disguise.

Tempting hands upon the grave,
as the child seems to cry and he won't behave.
The herse lingers in the midst of day.
IS THIS WORSHIP OR IS THIS THE FRAY TODAY?!

Simulations of my glory days.
The sun sets on the buildings ablaze.
The clock ticks its final tock.
The insubordination of this world is f**ked.

It's all a misery.
From the birth to history.

I refrain from this hipocracy,
my disposition in this false embassy.
My friend, the reaper, will take care of me.
He owns the postilion that shall lead me free.

Some say wings carry dreams so far,
The beckoning of a lonely cry.
This lonely boy cries out to the sun,
Awaiting that moment when it’s all gone and dry.

Some say he was a saint

Part 1 - The Meeting

I feel the pain of a thousand holes.
Pierced by needles in a crucifix style.
I do not believe in miracles.
My absent mind has made me in denial.

If you aren’t gonna take me away,

Here I stand,
with a gun against my chest.
The year, 1940,
the world has no rest.

Banging and screaming,
yelling and blood gushing.
I look at my fellow man,

No pain, nor regret, nor judgment, nor sanity exist.
No mediation, nor torment be held in purgatory.
Be it not the owl that watches you struggle,

I lay my head as the storm scowls near,
shivering in my bed surrounded by an abundance of fear.
Toil and trouble, the night prowls near.
Gusts above my head as I scream and shed tears.

I hear a chanting, a' chanting at my door.
But as I peer the window, I see nothing and nothing more.

I sit by the fire, trying to keep warm.