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My hands are red |
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Admittedly, the cross is mine |
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The time is come |
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Forsake the brine |
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Alone with the void for a thousand years |
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I am the first of the reptillian rocketeers |
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Doom shins its bitter brink |
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Its goblins casting stench to pave the way |
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I'm going off to seek the soul |
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Who'll teach me of the day |
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A boy will be born in the garden |
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I'll wait on a patch of green grass |
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Somehow he'll know to find me there |
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And place a star upon my crust |
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We'll trace the crescent's rim |
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Pawn's pursuit of deliverance |
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My soul a satchel for musical vim |
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Then i'll return to save my race |
