(Intro)
Kings of our emptiness, the flagellants align
Their mouths filled with questions, blessed they are by God's tokens
(Ware to walk the painted... the painted path)
Blessed they are by God's tokens
Walking the painted path through our plague fields
(Ware to walk the painted path
Through the plague fields)
Kings of this carousel, disfigured upon white horses
With Goya's claws and Dore's wings
Down golden locks to red crosses
Crowned children screaming from funeral shrouds
To rapid eye movement, heart-strings undone
... our beautiful filth dances...
...and plague flowers...
Why our...
...wall to reason fall... only human
Kings of our emptiness, the flagellants align
Their mouths filled with ashes and death's tongue
The dappled dying
(...And plague colours)
Flowering cold grey tombs
(The plague colours)
With crumbling walls... I feel
(...A masterpiece of pain)
Our truth is laid bare
(...The portrait of what we are...)