Make way, make way
Believe the cry of youth
Palm leaves thrown down
Portray destruction;
Riots in a holy town
Yet magnified to signify
They saw and knew the light
Make way, make way
Heaven shines dark from earth
Dark eyes of man
Forge dark of light,
Stared long, and blinded sight
Turned, not to see
A broken Icarus’ plight
Make way, make way
I Am he that decides
Should fruit divine
Be taken, given
We spiral, drawn on mortal wings
To steal the cloths of Heaven
Believe the cry of youth
Palm leaves thrown down
Portray destruction;
Riots in a holy town
Yet magnified to signify
They saw and knew the light
Make way, make way
Heaven shines dark from earth
Dark eyes of man
Forge dark of light,
Stared long, and blinded sight
Turned, not to see
A broken Icarus’ plight
Make way, make way
I Am he that decides
Should fruit divine
Be taken, given
We spiral, drawn on mortal wings
To steal the cloths of Heaven
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