---

Enter the Ghosts Lake.
The water whisper
Of something brooding.
No way out of here.

Slow smouldering.
Slow smouldering heat
Lapping at your skin.
Pulling you down again.

I wish that I could
Fan black to life
The dying embers
Of my long lost passion.

Descending deeper.
With black as my light.
With twist and turn,
All men will be tried in life.

We look for light to call.
The call to save us all.
Lost we fall to our kness,
The death, we kiss his feet.

Oh, sacred mother come.
For our fate is done.
In blindness we run
Always backwards.

The care of many
Was lost in my hands.
The sickness came in
Floods of torment and woe.

My withered body.
Aching and bone tired.
My christ who art lord.
Hold me down again.

Knee bent and head held low.
Eyes closed against my foe.
In prayed I sing on low.
Answers to my lost call.
Oh, sacred father come.
For it is you who's done.
In blindness you will run.
And be sure not to fall.

Oh, christ, what have I done?
Ill fortune now will come
Fire raining from the sun.
All virtues swept away.
In floods of blackest death.
The ghosts will take my breath.
My sins I will forget
I am nothing again.

Exist the Ghosts Lake.
The waters silent
What now has risen?
No man stands alone.

The world is changing.
'Tis misery who
Leads our way now
Holding man down.

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