When angels cry

With blood on their wings

The devil he laughs

And the demons they sing

 

When beauty is parted

And the image is scarred

Lost faith from the preacher

Whose visions are marred

 

From out of the garden

Where no flowers grow

Was entered a secret

For no one to know

For no one to speak of

And no one to touch

For those that would seek it

It would be too much

 

When heaven's departed

Decayed in disgust

When the garden is empty

And crumbled to dust

 

Shall rise from the ashes

And spread its great wings

A phoenix, pure golden

For our future it sings

 

From out of the garden

Where no flowers grow

Was entered a secret

For no one to know

For no one to speak of

And no one to touch

For those that would seek it

It would be too much

 

As the light is fading

And it lays its head to rest

A vain of hope arises

And settles to the west

 

As time comes to an end now

A new dawn has arrived

Everything forgiven

Just glad that we survived