"He hath come to the bosom of his beloved"

"Smiling on him, she beareth him to highest heav'n"

"With yearning heart on thee we gaze o' gold wing'd messenger of mighty gods".

Gold winged

Angel

Go home

Don't tell

Anyone

What you are, you're sacred

And they're starved, and their art

Is getting dark, and there you are to tear apart

Tear apart, tear apart, tear apart.

You better keep your head down

Better keep your head down

They're gonna' tell you what you wanna hear, then they're gonna disappear

Gonna' claim you like a souvenir

Just to sell you in a year

You better keep your head down

Keep your head down

Better keep your head down

Keep your head down

That's good.