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Those who are left at the end |
|
Would have won with desire |
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The kind that destroys as it grows |
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As you walk in the fire |
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Those who last right to the end |
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Would have got there by lust |
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The kind that consumes, never slows |
|
As you crawl in the dust |
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To love with a light in your eyes |
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Is to feel in the dark |
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Directions are harder to take |
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Every time that we ask |
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Love with a white piercing beam |
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Is to move from the black |
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Direction that renders us weak |
|
Every time we attack |
|
We who are left at the death |
|
Will be under a spell |
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One that cost victims their minds |
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With a brief glimpse of hell |
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We who were right all along |
|
Will then read out your names |
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Those who stole secrets will pay |
|
With a taste of our flames |
