Many trials and tragedies have I seen (have I seen)
But the spirit of the ages finds me as I sleep (as I sleep)
And says
An old friend carved into me
The ancient symbol of the day
It scars now ugly and reminds you of the pain
But a new day rises just the same
Can you find it?
The will of the ancient tongues
The sacred rope that binds and winds
(It forms now as thought from nothing)
A burning shape to quell the night
(For all the lives that echo through time)
A gift of insight a beacon of more
(An enamoured ancient light)
It takes the form, like the wings of the first drawn butterfly
But I search for more
This spell is the gateway of day
For those who question why
From a word to a word
From a work to a work
An old friend carved into me
The ancient symbol of the day
It scars now ugly and reminds you of the pain
But a new day rises just the same
Ancient tongues
Ancient works
Ancient everything
Collapsing the world we all strive to build it all again
From a word to a word
A work to a work
I'm a soothsayer not a saint
The sky is burning
And bleeding
I'm a soothsayer not a saint
For a golden dawn is left to rise
I'm a soothsayer not a saint
The sky is burning
And bleeding
I'm a soothsayer not a saint