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
Poured the ointment of grief
On the lips of a mutilated man
I carry the bones of a deformed child

And with 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

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