On bended knees we pray for war, a blade draws blood but often tarnishes   Through blazing eyes I see new sunsets, sky now breaking different shades of red   We pray for blades, ablazing locusts call for wars to wet the earth   To cover the world in black and bracken, flaming stubble with church bell battles   And then I lie in the arms of a smiling girl who prays to Christ and the pale queens mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow      When did I stand before I touched the shadows of this life that touch the dark and dream of ice   An endless winter in this dogday-age, I kiss the cross but dream of wars   A bagatelle for a massacre or wars of fire were build to last   Old men die and stone will turn to stone   And then I kiss the mouth of a smiling girl who calls on Christ and the pale queens mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow      Immaculate heart of immaculate love a tawdry scarecrow for a tarnished crown   His five wounds bleed but only on his throne, his toothless smile cuts wide across his face   And then I kiss the mouth of a smiling girl who calls on Christ and the pale queens mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow      And what shall I receive a little drum to beat when I march with scorched earth's steps   A rocking horse for a little warrior to trample around and down from fields of rape   An alabaster doll for the little maid while she waxes and wanes through the blood of the moon   And camouflaged smocks for the purest of pure, a masculine mark, and the flag of their shame   And I kiss the lips of the smiling girl who calls on Christ and the pale queens mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow      And where shall I go back there and back, furthest and far, to the edge of the shore   The snow falls thick his mantle of strength descends with a winter on those in his service   The snow is the winner   Message of winter, your hope shall be crushed   The lightflame grows dimmer   Child’s laughter ceases on a front with no ending   Within words with no meaning   Child’s laughter sickens   Child’s fever rages   Smouldering pages   Inquisition!   And I die in the arms of a smiling girl who prays to Christ and the pale queens mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow   Mighty in sorrow