Walking on Water

Under the burned out skies of dark December

Lonely visions passed me by

It was a voice I heard that whispered softly and carried me away to a place of fires and fallen angelsAnd in my final hour all was golden

Burned the buildings to the frozen ground

All that I saw was changed at once before meAnd high above the fields I was filled with glorious delusions

Found today burning in the rafters as the walls began to fall

Hauled away a wall of angry faces round the instrument of godsIf I see Saint Lucilia walking on the water

I''ll turn and walk away

And it''s a fine line between the work of devils and of angels

And in the end it''s all the same