Black Math Horseman Torment Of The Metals
Bound to the ash of doves
It's all white and gray
Hail to the flame and flood
Wash these limbs away
Take from the rising sun
Where four flowers lay
Until the work is done no man can be great
Ash from the grave
Ash from the grave buried deep
An ancient man who sleeps
Holds the truth that a shadow is a god that is lit from below the sun