Ita Missa Est

from The Power by The Power

	/

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lyrics

I thought I heard the music of the spheres
ringing around me, surrounding me with tales of old.
Bending over, he whispered this in my ear:
"Wield ye a dimmer one, not the globe made of gold."
(With a voice from the dark on a face made of gold)

He wore a cloak of silver, and maybe
I could see so much better if he had
just let the bloodstain dry and settle,
but all his splendor fooled me
all this time.

So I let it fall:
Rolling away from me but I could not let it go.
I've no more will at all.
I gave my everything to be far from the sidelines
and be divine.

As it fell from my fingers, he pulled off his cloak.
The glowing image of pride arose from the smoke.
(Beauty can kill a man faster than the darkest smoke.)

Will it come again
if I speak the words, but I don’t pretend
that this is all I see:
a mirror image of something that will never be
for me?

So I let it fall.