Angels in the Well
Blood for a spell
Hold you underground
For the roots to bear the sound

O', blackened fire
A little prick will do
Upon that wretched finger
Comes water for the spring

Ravishing light upon the streams
Wings of dreams, flattery
Fingers moving through wool
Staring off into the moon-glow

O', blackened fire
A little prick will do
Upon that wretched finger
Comes water for the spring

Fingernails, so beautiful and clean
Lashes spray all tears remaining
Skin of porcelain, fairest doll
O', little pet, he heard your call…

I told you all your dreams could come true
I spoke of shiny things never worn
O', clouds entrance, gold lightning crashes down
On waking symphonies, flowery spring

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