The Ballad of the Pale Christ

On bended knees we pray for war, a blade draws blood but often tarnishes

Through blazing eyes i see new sunsets, sky now breaking different shades of red

We pray for blades, ablazing locusts call for wars to wet the earth

To cover the world in black and bracken, flaming stubble with churchbell battles

And then i lie in the arms of a smiling girl who prays to christ and the pale