Begone! I say to thee
Begone Satan far from me
Begone, In Jesus name, I banish you from my life
We are through
Jesus died for all my pain
You, my soul will never gain
Begone, You frightful man
For only through the blood of Christ. I can
Be free my soul, come fly with me
For Satan, you could never be
Begone. I banish you
All my foes, pain, fear, depression, all of those
I banish you from my side
Begone from me, for Jesus' way is never wide
No room for you to overthrow
No words for you to ever crow
For in the name of Jesus Christ, the Son of God
I give to you this farewell nod.

O the woe that lay upon the streets
of the foggy town of London—softly
masked in the air of excitement, the
lives, the deaths, the things, O
their beauty, everlasting beyond them;
white wisps that decorate the edges
of the sordid streets

Vision is illuminated in two, four eyes
One looking, one staring towards it, O
the magnificent ocean in its might;
the destroyer of worlds lay with it,
the creator of the endless night

The sun has lost its battle to the stars;
O, those stars that sing, that cry at the
wreckage below—

“We weep,” they say in its weakened glow
The wisps forming now over sacred clouds
“Begone, O light!” cries the creature below
“Begone, O thing of death upon me, glowing
upon my translucent cape, begone!”

Away and away, the sun mourns its loss
of the sweet ivy that grew upon those walls
“Begone, thing of the night!” it cries in
its post-apocalyptic voice—O a cry not
to be reckoned with in any time nor place

There lay the victims below the bereaved
and lower and lower live they—O, the
horrid undead, the undead that stop
that force of time, beyond the pavement,
beyond the stench, they lay

“Get hence, vile animal,” say they, carrying
their voices over the sound of the wind
O that sound that leaped over the mountains,
A word that shall be the last sentiment of
the living dead, a word spoken from beyond
the milky clouds: “Begone!”

Under the gloomy fall sky they say
cold and dry, a world of decay
Too much earth is a body of black bile
The road of melancholy stretches for miles

Black bile, black bile, you curse me!
Begone, Begone I wish to breathe
the air of Spring.

''Like a glass of wine'', the wise one proclaims
flowing like fish through your veins
Dark bitter-sweet liquid fermenting
You cause this heart lamenting

Black bile, black bile, you curse me!
Begone, Begone I wish to feel
the fire of Summer.

Humour me this, the four of you
We seek balance, we seek truth
Perhaps the artist cannot be cured
We are born to fly like the broken bird

Black bile, black bile, you curse me!
Begone, Begone I wish to drink
the water of Winter.