We - The Dead - The Great Deceiver

Bathe my path in your shining light

Only to disappear

The bells of reckoning

Ringing high and clear

Under the heavens

Dressed in the flesh of a dying race

The more we die out and decay

The less our gods they shall weep

Our lives are nothing but thaw

In the final summer of the gods

We — the dead

We — the dead

Under the heavens shifting skies through wretched years of wrong

An omen of a heathen hope

Distant echoes of bronze

The shroud of man

Dragged through the ashes of a burning land

The more we die out and decay

The less of our gods they shall weep

Our lives are nothing but thaw

In the final summer of the gods

We — the dead

We — the dead

We — the goatherd

We — the dead

We — the real world

We — the dead under the heavens

Dressed in the flesh of a dying race