The Garden

There's a solution in second circle of hell
Where we are no longer humans, only our wish
They say there's a life after the mislead
of the hearts that beaten faster than light
A promise was broken and they heard the crack
We've made music and wine and love out of it
We've laughed in the face of the blindest sky
We've raise our spirits as if it were the
ressurrection day and, yes, we thought it was
The days and the urges that evens all queens
and kings to knights and murderes and poets
And, if we believe even in the littlest sense
of justice, it might eventually come for us too
But, my dear, as a woman I was taught to see
Satan's face in the smallest mirrors and hear
Satan's voice in the shortest of speeches
We are so far and so pure, I can hardly see
anything from this twisty side of the line
Even though we're so far in we cannot wash off
our hands or our mouths even if we wanted to
Maybe the beast is just ourselves in the crude
dawn when we thought heaven has fallen apart
When all we've done was hold it together with
our tight hands, strong arms and wrapped legs
If the gods haven't heard our passionate hymns
then it's not our fault the gods might be dead
Meanwhile, we rejoice in a single hot-tempered
skin that soon shall be refreshed by the winds