from what I've hear we're golden.
from what I've seen we're black.
I've never heard an angels song
But I've heard the sirens wail.
With nothing more than hope,
what little we call faith.
comes dreams filled with heartbreak
struggle, strife, and pain.
the gods that we look up to
may well live on earth.
but these deities of living
are reveling in our sin.
can you hear heavens song
trilling through your window?
they tell me I can hear it
if I say a little prayer.
but what if I need proof?
probably never get an answer,
surrounded by pain and hardships
is more than I can bear.
so I've turned from this old master
and look in brighter shade
to a ruler of the spirit
for whom I was made.
TWMA,
Sacred Secret
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