Sighing on the embers of a fire
That must be allowed to die
The bed of coal, it must run cold in time
But your body heat brings life
Crying in a river running dry
Made your eyes a clouded sky
But if you're a god
Made from a God
Made from a god
Let your whispered word be divine
If vultures can be soul birds, let it die
Leaning on the everlasting sigh
Creator, you create monstrous men
From the ink that clots your pen
Running on a sentence that must end
So your bones can rise again
If vultures can be soul birds, let it die
Leaning on the everlasting sigh
That must be allowed to die
The bed of coal, it must run cold in time
But your body heat brings life
Crying in a river running dry
Made your eyes a clouded sky
But if you're a god
Made from a God
Made from a god
Let your whispered word be divine
If vultures can be soul birds, let it die
Leaning on the everlasting sigh
Creator, you create monstrous men
From the ink that clots your pen
Running on a sentence that must end
So your bones can rise again
If vultures can be soul birds, let it die
Leaning on the everlasting sigh
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