Slaving for my solace of mind,
digging in the sand until there's blood on my hands,
careless to the state I'm in, I've so long been alone..
I can't go on.. Rain down, rain down and cleanse my soul.
Flow like a river.
Forging insight by pagan torchlight,
in cadence warlike, we draw tears from the sky,
because the well's run dry.
I've spread out my seed, its gone in all directions.
It starts to feel like the promised land is a fantasy
and heaven has been swallowed by the desert.
In a drought without submission, not a cloud in the sky,
this course keeps getting harder the more I try.
I dig up dry bones, and the corpses cry
as they open their eyes to see the world's decay.
This world's a tomb.
There's a clamor in my heart and it's over.
Where is my prize, my promised prize?