Under the burned out skies of dark December Lonely visions passed me by It was a voice I heard that whispered softly And carried me away to a place of fires and fallen angels And in my final hour all was golden Burned the buildings to the frozen ground All that I saw was changed at once before me And high above the fields I was filled with glorious delusions Found today burning in the rafters as the walls began to fall Hauled away a wall of angry faces round the instrument of gods If I see Saint Lucilia walking on the water I''ll turn and walk away And it''s a fine line between the work of devils and of angels And in the end it''s all the same After the flames died down I remember Alone imprisoned by the force of hands I waited til silence came to lay my head down And in my darkest dreams I caught sight of the threads of my unmaking