Scars of greed (crowned with torns)

Scars of greed (crowned with torns)                              
O’ angels come to guide me in my sacred land
Thine holy glance enlightens my chamber
Stranger worlds in fractual thoughts

A gentle thrill
I’m crowned with thorns
Who will remember this?

Quiet domes of whispers circling in my head
Collapsing mental boundaries
In my debility they bloom

And angels still corrupting with a silent word of wisdom
O’ angels find their sacred land
In my debility they bloom

Kill my flesh
Kill my skin

Cure my sore
Cure my belief

A wince, just to regret
To wear the willow
A wince, just to regret self-sacrifice
To wear the willow-lost within

And grieve for what I’ve lost-a mournful eye
My thirst for life embodies prayers at night
I sentence myself-a wilful execution
Disclaiming innocence indeed

O’ angels find their sacred land in mine
What they have never dared to be

O’ angels find their sacred land in mine
Where they can be what they greed

O’ angels find their sacred land in mine
For they still can make me believe

O’ angels find their sacred land in mine
For they have crowned me…

… Crowned with thorns