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Angels in the Well

Blood for a spell

Hold you underground

For the roots to bear the sound

O', blackened fire

A little prick will do

Upon that wretched finger

Comes water for the spring

Ravishing light upon the streams

Wings of dreams, flattery

Fingers moving through wool

Staring off into the moon-glow

O', blackened fire

A little prick will do

Upon that wretched finger

Comes water for the spring

Fingernails, so beautiful and clean

Lashes spray all tears remaining

Skin of porcelain, fairest doll

O', little pet, he heard your call…

I told you all your dreams could come true

I spoke of shiny things never worn

O', clouds entrance, gold lightning crashes down

On waking symphonies, flowery spring