| Song | To Our Ashes |
| Artist | Agathodaimon |
| Album | Phoenix |
| It is the mind, which creates the world about us | |
| And even though we stand side by side | |
| My eyes will never see what is beheld by yours | |
| My heart won’t respond to your touch | |
| segment i: | |
| Out of the caverns of the pain | |
| Like a child from the womb, stillborn | |
| Like a ghost from the tomb | |
| I arise and unbuild it again | |
| segment ii: | |
| We don’t see things as they are | |
| We see them as we are | |
| And all that we see or seem to be | |
| Is but a dream within a dream | |
| I see life blurred and shallow every day by day | |
| In this world’s theater in which I stay | |
| Three Death gently descends, from spheres up high | |
| Staring into my cold and humid eyes | |
| You’re closing your eyes, try turning your head | |
| Away from the gloom, trying to forget | |
| But when I start to laugh, she mocks | |
| And when I cry she laughs... | |
| And hardens evermore her heart | |
| But when I start to laugh, she mocks | |
| And when I cry she laughs... | |
| All things come to the those who wait | |
| I say these words to make me glad | |
| But something answers, soft and sad | |
| They come... but often come too late | |
| repeat segment ii | |
| There Death gently descends, from spheres up high | |
| Staring into my cold and humid eyes | |
| You’re closing your eyes, try turning your head | |
| Away from the gloom, trying to forget | |
| But something answers, soft and sad | |
| They come... but often come too late | |
| Cause I am sick of this way of life | |
| As life is sick of the way we pretend | |
| But I have walked with Death hand in hand | |
| And Death's own hand is warmer than my own! | |
| repeat both segments | |
| All things come to those who wait | |
| I say these words to make me glad | |
| But something answers, soft and sad | |
| They come... but often come too late |
| It is the mind, which creates the world about us | |
| And even though we stand side by side | |
| My eyes will never see what is beheld by yours | |
| My heart won' t respond to your touch | |
| segment i: | |
| Out of the caverns of the pain | |
| Like a child from the womb, stillborn | |
| Like a ghost from the tomb | |
| I arise and unbuild it again | |
| segment ii: | |
| We don' t see things as they are | |
| We see them as we are | |
| And all that we see or seem to be | |
| Is but a dream within a dream | |
| I see life blurred and shallow every day by day | |
| In this world' s theater in which I stay | |
| Three Death gently descends, from spheres up high | |
| Staring into my cold and humid eyes | |
| You' re closing your eyes, try turning your head | |
| Away from the gloom, trying to forget | |
| But when I start to laugh, she mocks | |
| And when I cry she laughs... | |
| And hardens evermore her heart | |
| But when I start to laugh, she mocks | |
| And when I cry she laughs... | |
| All things come to the those who wait | |
| I say these words to make me glad | |
| But something answers, soft and sad | |
| They come... but often come too late | |
| repeat segment ii | |
| There Death gently descends, from spheres up high | |
| Staring into my cold and humid eyes | |
| You' re closing your eyes, try turning your head | |
| Away from the gloom, trying to forget | |
| But something answers, soft and sad | |
| They come... but often come too late | |
| Cause I am sick of this way of life | |
| As life is sick of the way we pretend | |
| But I have walked with Death hand in hand | |
| And Death' s own hand is warmer than my own! | |
| repeat both segments | |
| All things come to those who wait | |
| I say these words to make me glad | |
| But something answers, soft and sad | |
| They come... but often come too late |