Morn a well, find it thous instinct,
Doth bringeth the water and rain,
Knelt a prayer, beneath thine stone,
place thy sweet smell to the ground.
Fall'st among the grim and grime,
leaning toward bitter longing,
learnest they dearest treasure,
from thine souls eye.
Loss to thine powerful one,
beith the one who's to lose,
filled with gods memories,
how to beith the truth.
Dost thou beith your sweet future,
in the clouds beyond the stars,
morn a well, by thous instinct,
live the life into thy greatest.
Slip past greater morrow,
Hast cause many bitter sorrow,
Hath falling towards sad evening,
for to beith a gentle meaning.
Greatness crushed beneath thine soul,
Hath grow past gods wretched coal,
brought from thine truth, beware,
but caused for many peoples care.
A mutilated soul falling to the ground,
Buried behind rubble which once, was not there.
Born among to beginning thought, lie,
twas the truth in thine mother's eyes,
hast brought the most unholy false,
to you're bleeding, liberated, pulse.
You now live among the stars, in the clouds, above the earth,
falling for the truth that beith wrong.
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