In the leafy shade of a wildwood, reflections of a distant light
A tempting celestial song, calling into the light leading to the sky

Somber, so very intense, kneeling to the ground.
Gripe the soil!
It turns into dust.
Desperate fingers grasping, nothing.

Escaping the vision so horrid, wandering through a meadow of grass
On the misty ground sits a raven, staring silently in despise, it speaks:
Denizen of demons path, inhabitant of ground at last!
Never fear the horned pact, be a part in the immense essence of life!

We are the organ pipes of living frailty:
A voice in the dark, so strong yet so fragile.
Now touch the serpents tongue and feel a true relief!
The flower must wither, the flower must die.

We are the organ pipes of living frailty:
A voice in the dark, so strong yet so fragile.
Now touch the serpents tongue and feel a true relief!
The flower must wither, the flower must die, again!

Choir: We are the organ pipes of living frailty
A voice in the dark, so strong yet so fragile
We are the organ pipes of living frailty 
A voice in the dark, so strong yet so fragile
The flower must wither, the flower must die

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