Those who live nice lives
Often own iced knives
In their back for their comforts
Mortal glory, False trumpets
Bring me into dirt instead
Squelch all my trials dead
Open me a book of life
Write down upon it my strife
But not for me do I keep
Only death did I once speak
So now place me behind the Cross
To which inside, put my loss
A Trader upon many shores
I became liar, thief, and worse
My parts, became like death and rust
Wounded settler of sex and lust
Give me now, unto my King
To fix away my oft broken wings
Take this world of lies away
A Shepherd risen, Demons slayed
How fast dreams do change, true
I thought always I would chase you
A dreamer doesn't not age forever
Only his dreams are washed new in rivers
And the trumpet sounded at day's end
Eternal call, where the world begins
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