The viral prophesies

Death comes to hold you in your wineyards and gardens
To gather all Children by his feet

All you who prayed, all you faithful and brave
The lost and found, all the same

Death comes striding through your orchards and meadows
To take your hand and lead your way

Soldiers, farmers, beggars and kings
All eclipsed by those wings

In the Twilight over your bones
In the Twilight over your bones

Moments stretched out like years in the Furnace
The Fever Behemoth within

The machines all silent in the stillness of your ruins
As the last of Souls comes to rest

All of your prettiest Sons and Daughters
Their Flesh all Ashes and Dust

Blown over marshes and naked rock
Their Skulls like marbles in the Dirt

In the Twilight over your bones
In the Twilight over your bones

Bury your love in the Dust on the Bedrock
Lay her to rest in the Dust on the Bedrock

And they
Swore they'd
Come back, come back
Another year, some other year
When the crops grew high

In the Twilight over your bones
In the Twilight over your bones
When the crops grew high
Among their Ghosts and Ruins
In the Fat and Virgin Land
Fat and Virgin Land