Oh, angels, come To guide me in my sacred land Thine holy glance enlights my chamber Stranger worlds in fractal thoughts A gentle thrill I'm crowned with thorns Who will remember this? Quiet domes of whispers Circling in my head Collapsing mental boundaries Draconic lips of mine And angels Still corrupting with a silent word of wisdom Oh, angels find their sacred land In my debility, they bloom Oh, angels find their sacred land In my debility, they bloom Kill my flesh Kill my skin Cure my sore Cure my belief The wince just to regret To wear the willow The wince just to regret self-sacrifice To wear the willow lost within And grieve for what I've lost, a mournful eye My thirst for life embodies prayers at night I sentence myself for a willful execution Disclaiming innocence indeed Oh, angels find their sacred land in mine What they have never dared to be Oh, angels find their sacred land in mine Where they can be what they greed Oh, angels find their sacred land in mine For they can still make me believe Oh, angels find their sacred land in mine For they have crowned me Crowned with thorns