Ghost with gentle voices, calling us never to wake And we see another nation rising from the ashes... Soon to unearth what we cannot escape As time draws near for all of us Make amend, dear tyrant And be my ominous companion Through horrors' eye we'll seek vision lost to the sheep; Rapt and fitfully chained Hear the trumpets' sound! The angels of discord are gathering; Such beautiful faces, such poisonous tongues; A dead world assembly... Into the world you brought me And after your world you wrought me With a finger to your mouth And I lost myself in the sea; Carrying the waves of time There's nothing to believe And you ask me why I grieve Make amend, dear tyrant And be my ominous companion Through horrors' eye we'll seek vision lost to the sheep; Rapt and fitfully chained "Earth raised up her head From the darkness' dread and drear Her light fled, and her locks covered with grey despair" (William Blake 1757-1827) Hear the trumpets' sound! Our empire stifles and crumbles This terrible loss will generate us Gone from this dead world assembly... Here is the void Here is the cross we carry with us Through this dead world assembly