We traced the steps
Into the depths
Our garden gone
Like a childhood song
Hung on the hooks
Of St. Peter’s Cross…
The morning fades
To darker shades
The path is thorns
For the earthly born
Hung on the nails
Of St. Peter’s Cross
We’ve lost our souls
As the church bell tolls
Its human nature
Against our creator
We’ve crucified
And deified
But to ourselves
We are locked outside
Hung by the ideals
Of St. Peter’s Cross
But in our hearts
The darkest parts
Can love still dwell
In this dismal hell?
The raven’s beak
It has been tied
Its tethered claws
Broke as it died
With false humility
The prophets gathered
To praise the loss and cost
Of St. Peter’s Cross
With false humility
The prophets gathered
To praise the loss and cost
Of St. Peter’s Cross
They looked away
To sheltered days
Never seeing
The praise we paid
And as vultures
Content to perch
From this lie
They wrought the church
Looking down from golden clouds
They wove beauty her burial shroud
Looking down from golden clouds
They wove beauty her final shroud
Humanity hung on St. Peter’s Cross-
Left to indulgences to compensate the l
Beautiful shafts of light refracted through the ominous haze of the anthropocene. Even in its bleakest moments, a fire runs through this album that makes you want to keep up the fight - come what may. LUX INTERNA