We - The Dead

Bathe my path in your shining light Only to disappear The bells of reckoning Ringing high and clear Under the heavens Dressed in the flesh of a dying race The more we die out and decay The less our gods they shall weep Our lives are nothing but thaw In the final summer of the gods We - the dead We - the dead Under the heavens of shifting skies through wretched years of wrong An omen of a heathen hope Distant echoes of bronze The shroud of man Dragged through the ashes of a burning land the more we die out and decay The less our gods they shall weep Our lives are nothing but thaw In the final summer of the gods We - the dead We - the dead We - the goatherd We - the dead We - the real world We - the dead under the heavens Dressed in the flesh of a dying race