The Messenger is standing at,
Standing at the gate.
Ready to let go,
Ready for the crush.
The Messenger.

Too late for whispers,
Too late for the blush.
The past is mercy,
When the future is aglow.
(Won’t you let it go?)

Kneeling jury,
Dressed in a cloak of shadows.
The hunting’s grim for the innocent eyes.
Communion’s pray is a cup of sorrows.
(With failure’s scars.)
With failure’s scars,
For the humbling cries.

The spirit is over town,
Waiting for me to hit the floor.
Blooming whites can’t fool the voice of one calling tonight.
Tonight faith is the red crown,
The red crown around your door.
Time’s scattering the seeds of the morning daylight.

The Avenger is roaming through,
Roaming through the land.
Ready for the clash,
For the lasting gash.
The Avenger.

Mothers kissing sons,
With staff in hands.
The bride is shining,
When the groom is gold.
(Won’t you let it go?)

Shining worship choked in the wave of silver.
The offering’s grief for deceiver’s bride.
Salvation then is a cup of fire.
(Hope is the start.)
But hope is the start,
Of a morning died.

The spirit is over town,
Waiting for me to hit the floor.
Blooming whites can’t fool the voice of one calling tonight.
Tonight faith is the red crown,
The red crown around your door.
Time’s scattering the seeds of the morning daylight.

The pilgrims are gathering the marching band,
The marching band’s howling.
Compassion is the flag a righteous man,
A righteous man will hold.
The pilgrims are gathering the marching band,
The marching band’s howling.
Compassion is the flag a righteous man,
A righteous man will hold.

The spirit is over town,
Waiting for me to hit the floor.
Blooming whites can’t fool the voice of one calling tonight.
Tonight faith is the red crown,
The red crown around your door.
Time’s scattering the seeds of the morning daylight.