All the white horses ran bleeding to the end,
Shot through the heart by dear devoted passion
And the falling stars that never fall
But send ambassadors to call,
Still call the guilty to heaven
All the wild ones keep their shades pulled down,
They hid their dead eyes from the ground,
They starve their souls with murder proud
Beneath the shroud, beneath the shroud
And in a corner by the door, in a picture on the wall
Hangs a man of hollow leather
I can see his broken grin,
His fallen hope, his glorious sin,
Bejewelled and robed in splendour
See the clouds form without sound…
Dark and swollen, torn and bound by the storm
That scream around in the heads
Of those he found beneath the ground, beneath the ground
In the grey corridors of melting ice,
In the cod golden claw of autumn nights,
You can find us again in paradise
We are the voice in the shadows,
The curse that binding
We are the crack in the mirror,
The seeker finding
We are the light in the lantern
Your blindness brought you
We are the dazzling phantoms
Of dark misfortune…
