The Ballad of the Pale Christ

On bended knees we pray for war, a blade draws blood but often tarnishes

Through blazing eyes I see new sunsets, sky now breaking different shades of red

We pray for blades, ablazing locusts call for wars to wet the earth

To cover the world in black and bracken, flaming stubble with church bell battles

And then I lie in the arms of a smiling girl who prays to Christ and the pale queens mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

When did I stand before I touched the shadows of this life that touch the dark and dream of ice

An endless winter in this dogday-age, I kiss the cross but dream of wars

A bagatelle for a massacre or wars of fire were build to last

Old men die and stone will turn to stone

And then I kiss the mouth of a smiling girl who calls on Christ and the pale queens mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

Immaculate heart of immaculate love a tawdry scarecrow for a tarnished crown

His five wounds bleed but only on his throne, his toothless smile cuts wide across his face

And then I kiss the mouth of a smiling girl who calls on Christ and the pale queens mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

And what shall I receive a little drum to beat when I march with scorched earth's steps

A rocking horse for a little warrior to trample around and down from fields of rape

An alabaster doll for the little maid while she waxes and wanes through the blood of the moon

And camouflaged smocks for the purest of pure, a masculine mark, and the flag of their shame

And I kiss the lips of the smiling girl who calls on Christ and the pale queens mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

And where shall I go back there and back, furthest and far, to the edge of the shore

The snow falls thick his mantle of strength descends with a winter on those in his service

The snow is the winner

Message of winter, your hope shall be crushed

The lightflame grows dimmer

Child's laughter ceases on a front with no ending

Within words with no meaning

Child's laughter sickens

Child's fever rages

Smouldering pages

Inquisition!

And I die in the arms of a smiling girl who prays to Christ and the pale queens mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow

Mighty in sorrow