Dogma, Pt. I

In this world of madness where people topple the door they overthrow the children, the wanders, all of you Hands in the night, out of people's sight no final fear approach, you cannot help your thoughts Sit upon your throne and rise Ahead, upon your head, the colony, let it roll I'll warm your throne as I'll rise myself A god will be the end His steps already soft all are they, yes, my thoughts Now I hear a song I'm lying to my soul and I cannot know what's right or wrong sit upon this throne