Prophet

Far away across the fields

Mortal men

regain the seal

Of those before the winds of pain

when the Hollow Men

staked their claim

And where the Word became flesh

was where the world

became cleansed

And in the streets the children ran

when heresy

would claim the hand

of the Prophet of man

And on their feet the Lame arose

And by his Grace

the lost came home

Yet through a frame of idolarty

we choose to ignore

we choose not to see

The Prophet of man

And in the darkness of chosen cell

I am awake but ever falling

And to listen with an honest heart

I know I´d always hear the calling

And where the Word consumes the flesh

is where the light

of life is blessed

The Prophet of man

The Son of man