A Reading From The Book Of

This masquerade is a massacre. another stained-glass serenade. these halos hang

Over our heads like vultures circle their prey. your hands are washed white but

Your eyes are the darkest i've seen. your hands are washed white. foul deeds

Will rise like ghosts of gods through the steeples. foul deeds will rise like

Smoke and soot from the stacks. foul deeds will rise. heracy fills our lungs as

We breath it. foul deeds will rise like the incense that burns. you're running

This race, but you've been running the wrong way. dark shepherds have led their

Sheep astray. they demonize, rationalize, for what? for who? foul deeds will

Rise like ghosts of gods through the steeples. foul deeds will rise like smoke

And soot from the stacks. foul deeds will rise. heracy fills our lungs as we

Breath it. foul deeds will rise like the incense that burns. call the choir to

Light the pyre. call the choir to light the fires. your hands are washed white

But your eyes are the darkest i've seen. your hands are washed white but this

Place smells of deceit. this burning fire will never be enough to quench your

Blood-lust.