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Cathedral

de Galt MacDermot

And he says, signal the fleet,
On his mark, everyone you know,
Begins to leave,

All you have left:
Blacks out their retreat,
All you have left:
Is the swarm above your head,

You felt her fall away,
Calling out your name,
As she became,
The queen of blades.

She called out from something like a tomb
And when you came just a little too late,

All you have left:
Is the one you never saved,
All you have left:
Is a war to take her place.

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