| Her penultimate sighs called softly on the kindling wind
|
| Her saintly eyes filling with tears, lifting with truth
|
| And then a golden flash like the onset of heaven
|
| Leaving her screams breaking my heart
|
| And in the grip of fire I knew the death of love
|
| Where will you be when they tense for warfare?
|
| What will you see with your innocence there?
|
| Where will you be my darling?
|
| Where will you be when they tense for warfare?
|
| Where will you be when God is glorifying?
|
| There we will be between the dead and dying
|
| Where will you be my darling?
|
| Where will you be when God is glorifying?
|
| Prophecies and glory forge a massive disdain
|
| For lying passive in the shadows whilst the enemy reigns
|
| Devoted to the votive, holy standard above
|
| By command of the king of heaven came the death of love
|
| Where will you be when they’re vilifying?
|
| How will they see when the truth is blinding?
|
| Where will you be my darling?
|
| Where will you be when they’re vilifying?
|
| Where will you be when the dark is rising?
|
| How will you keep from it’s terrorizing?
|
| Where will you be my darling?
|
| Where will you be when the dark is rising?
|
| Burning was the sunset like the portent of doom
|
| On the saintly iron maiden as she fell from her wound
|
| But visions and ambition never listened to submission
|
| And as she was on a mission from the highest above
|
| To Lord upon the slaughter like a sword through hissing water
|
| She arose where archers sought her for the death, the death of love
|
| The righteous death of love
|
| The righteous death of love
|
| Gilles adored her drama, her suit of pure white armor
|
| Blazed against the English in a torrent of light
|
| And as they rallied onto night
|
| A cancer fled his soul, dissolving
|
| Framed amid the thick of fire
|
| Aflame, a Valkyrie
|
| She made him click without desire
|
| And in his eyes she swam a Goddess
|
| And even when they caught her breath
|
| Her words would leave a scar
|
| For only in the grip of darkness
|
| Will we shine amidst the brightest stars
|
| How will you breathe when their wheels are turning?
|
| How will you know if the sky is burning?
|
| Where will you be my darling?
|
| How will you breathe when their wheels are turning?
|
| Where will you be when Babel builds my fire?
|
| Will you not flee and label me pariah?
|
| Where will you be my darling?
|
| Where will you be when they light my pyre?
|
| Aligned with Joan in all that was enthroned and divine
|
| He swore to score the crimes, jackdaws poured on this dove
|
| Crimes he knew alone derived from minds of the blind
|
| The church unfurled for murder perched upon the death of love
|
| Framed amid the thick of fire
|
| Aflame, a Valkyrie
|
| She claimed the skies were lit with spires
|
| And in his eyes she swam a Goddess
|
| And even when she fought for breath
|
| Her words would leave a scar
|
| For only in the grip of darkness
|
| Will we shine amidst the brightest stars |