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