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