[Rob Thorne]

The sadness, the sadness
The tears that wash and cleanse
The madness, the madness
Hot blood in the heart of a frenzy

As the sweet maiden leads us through
The skies, the fields, and the water so blue
As we strive to meet the Father of Beyond

The altar, the altar on which we pray for life
Yet we falter, we falter
May the black witch bury the knife

As we find our last kiss on the serpents lips
Will we never find the truth that lies
Deep within our hearts from birth?

But now we see in the lives that be
The power of the prophet
Majestic beauty shining brightly
On the foundation of evil ruin.