There are arms
there are people
living lives in Ivory rooms
urging death unto them soon.
They sway radiantly in the breeze
smiling with tears inside their souls
A window broken
a mirror shattered
bells are ringing
their faces sold
there was a time
when there was patience
on that pilgrimage they walked
they told their tales
from ivory rooms
but Heavens gates were locked.
Heaven never heard
as they walked their beaten path
through the woods of error
on ward to their death
Heavens fragrance never claimed them
As they breathed their sinners breath
Who was to teach them?
who was to learn?
Loving life and living hate
they sang their songs
at midnight mass
their echoes fate.
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