[Rob Thorne] The sadness, the sadness The tears that wash and cleanse The madness, the madness Hot blood in the heart of a frenzy As the sweet maiden leads us through The skies, the fields, and the water so blue As we strive to meet the Father of Beyond The altar, the altar on which we pray for life Yet we falter, we falter May the black witch bury the knife As we find our last kiss on the serpent's lips Will we never find the truth that lies Deep within our hearts from birth? But now we see in the lives that be The power of the prophet Majestic beauty shining brightly On the foundation of evil ruin.