Testo Dying In Circles

Beside the shadow of a frozen chapel, under the marriage of the cross and crown, outside the privilege of the "chosen ones", the Image of God is sleeping on the ground

Spires pierce the sky like steel through your hands,
Planks from our eyes plunged in your side
Water poured out but we want wine
You said, "Take and remember", but we always forget
To the outcast sons, to the sojourners - descendants of loss
I'll hold my breath until you can breathe To truly live I must begin anew and be consumed.
Make a heart of flesh from these hollow stones
I'm learning what it means to trade my certainty for awe

When you fell to your knees to wash my feet did you see the trampled shadows stained underneath?
Did you hear the acrimony, perpetuated by the puppet sewn to the pulpit?
We forgot your life and became a people of death: Spell-bound by the celibate spectacle, inhabiting mausoleums.

We are the eulogy at the funeral of God
To the outcast sons, to the sojourners
Descendants of loss: be consumed. I'll hold my breath
To truly live we must begin anew

Trade your certainty for awe