My demons are many My angels are few and the time for redemption is long overdue For the songs that we sang from that merciless pew were just words from an old dying tome But the gates of the garden are opened at last and an old voice is calling me home
So to all of my critics and all of my friends I’ve loved every one of you time and again But the wheel must turn from beginning to end and my time with you is now fading For the darkness that soon overshadows us all will not long be keeping me waiting
And finally I must in good conscience proclaim that the gods that divide us are one and the same And it matters not much if we call them by name for the names that we praise are illusion For the gods resonate in reflections of men and within we will find absolution