Lyric

Clutching a broken pocket watch

I gaze at the sky

Clear and endless above…

Rubble crumbles, embers sway

Spears pierce the earth, waiting for their master

The bell of the end tolls

Incongruous upon this field

A habit flutters in the wind…

The fallen boy’s hollow eyes

Are too late to seek salvation

What is the meaning

Of tracing a cross in the air?

If all I can do is close my eyes

Then what purpose does this hand of mine serve?

I am like a grim reaper

Breathing

“Oh God…”

Just to keep myself intact

If a savior truly exists

I pray that they judge my sins

To restore lost order—

I’ve realized it’s harder than

Performing a miracle

The fallen land is being defiled

If this is what’s called justice

Then let me abandon prayer…

I saw the back of a girl being sold

Too early to seek salvation

No time to make the sign of the cross

If all I can do is close my eyes

Then what purpose does this hand of mine serve?

Then let me be the reaper

Am I ready to pray to God?

If a savior truly exists

I pray that they judge

The sins I am about to commit

I am ready to stain my hands in blood