In terms of suns and ancient stone,
Tomorrow's the day we die.
So bar the doors with brittle bones,
And together we will cry.
It's our slow apocalypse.
And deep within we thrive.
I'd destroy the world to taste your lips,
And watch them burn alive.
So gaze through the window pane,
And seek out my favorite star.
And see us dance in Solar rain,
And on Saturn's ring we leave a scar.
A ballad of two in loving death.
Can beckon in a time of hope.
Despite the words of all the rest,
And distance seen in a telescope.
I'll spin her round and bring her home.
To where we find our window pane,
And I'll let her lay in dreams she roams.
While she dreams of the solar rain.
Then in my mind I fly away,
Back to real life's creeping end.
And to the end I choose to stay,
Forever the reaper's friend.