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Clocks

de The Twilight Orchestra

All heaven's dressed in black
And the church is not of help here

Yet
Comets, importing change of time and state
As the poet says

Fiery demons in the sky
They are
Or angels
That's hard to judge
Like pilgrims in the skies
They roam and lurk
With sparkling, wrathful eyes

Not long
They will descend
And along with them
The scourge of angry and bad revolting stars
These signs are evil

Not conquest
But famine
Then war
And finally death

Astrology
The highest science of them all
It is a mirror
Of what's to come
But since the planets cannot command
Will they inspire me at least?

Your constellation's promising
Although
We all will mourn in blood

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