I walk this path of consequence
Upon broken bones I tread with care
Through ashes of cities I stalk
Surrounded by hate and despair

Caught in conflict with time itself
I ask if this burn inside will leave
In dark hollowed tongue he replies
His answer he begins to weave

Take my hand and follow me
Then you’ll see my misery
Quite the sweet epitome
Of all there is yet to be

On I walk past wars forgotten
Battles raging on in stories told
Sacred rites and death for the gods
The solutions in men of old

The heretics still standing tall
Blasphemy against the prophecy
Under cold grey skies he leads me
And he riddles his fallacy

Take my hand and follow me
Then you’ll see my misery
Quite the sweet epitome
Of all there is yet to be

You’re praying to the wrong gods
I am surely right
My argument sounds convincing
Will you see the light?

I want you to follow me
Come and see my misery
See all that you’ve done to me
And there is still yet to be

Take my hand and follow me
Then you’ll see my misery
Quite the sweet epitome
Of all there is yet to be