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Weeping Of The Spirits

de A Plea for Purging

There is blood on our hands tonight
So this is where the world lies behind the Son of Man, now go
Sell your soul
For this world will offer nothing
Well I have invented angels of my own
They are false and untrue
Crawling, cowering they still my shroud
When I swear from the blazing Son above
Uncovered, so shall I fall
This is where my bones will rest
In the desert of forsakeness
Watch your back cause the sky is turning black
Don't listen, for I will make you a liar
Closed off by crossed arms
There is no worship here
So put your foot down
So quick to eject and reject

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