I'm thinking too much
Too much too late
The stars fall from the wedge by the hook of Orion
While everyone's singing 'death to cry'
And Apollo judging from distance
One single tread of silver around us
While the world worships the apathy
We turn incubus and werewolves
And the water turns rogue and dry
The strings of Orpheus' harp loosen
The hungry acolytes consumes us
The dark wins over the silver string
And we use magic and bravery to push hell
But Hades himself pulls us into a cradle for sleep
Then it's morning again