Oh, angels, come
To guide me in my sacred land
Thine holy glance enlights my chamber
Stranger worlds in fractal thoughts

A gentle thrill
I'm crowned with thorns
Who will remember this?

Quiet domes of whispers
Circling in my head
Collapsing mental boundaries
Draconic lips of mine

And angels
Still corrupting with a silent word of wisdom

Oh, angels find their sacred land
In my debility, they bloom
Oh, angels find their sacred land
In my debility, they bloom

Kill my flesh
Kill my skin
Cure my sore
Cure my belief

The wince just to regret
To wear the willow
The wince just to regret self-sacrifice
To wear the willow lost within

And grieve for what I've lost, a mournful eye
My thirst for life embodies prayers at night
I sentence myself for a willful execution
Disclaiming innocence indeed

Oh, angels find their sacred land in mine
What they have never dared to be
Oh, angels find their sacred land in mine
Where they can be what they greed

Oh, angels find their sacred land in mine
For they can still make me believe
Oh, angels find their sacred land in mine
For they have crowned me
Crowned with thorns