a couple of hours Covered the ground with a layer of gold Spirits were high and the raining had stopped The larder was low but boy that wasn't all Eleventh
you see And all of it's insanity But now I sit inside Confind and I pray I'll return soon On the eleventh day of the moon Cows graze in the shade Made
We've heard the sound that ears bleed to hear The sound of a place the entire universe awaits Here the strongest fall to their knees A passion so powerful
(music by bartsch/matton - january 93) (poems by bartsch - december 92) When the dark lord told me to live I felt the raised lust of possession afterwards
he was born, and tells him so He takes it in, he hangs his chin He ducks another blow Did God overlook it? What ought have been written The eleventh
of despond But only now A path lies straight before me The maze is ploughed half through with hate Andpher crop is dripping red Beyond eleventh hour
[Music by Marco Kehren/Deinonychus] [Instrumental]
our hands We're deaf to our own demands Oh, when the eleventh hour calls The eleventh hour calls Oh, and nothing's easy anymore Oh, when the eleventh hour calls The eleventh
This world is big and so-awake I stayed up late to hear your voice This light is here to keep you warm This song is here to keep you strong I made a
Internal eyes are opening The material sphere bursts Nothing is, nothing becomes End and beginning unites Nothing was, nothing will be Time and space collides In the eleventh
slough of despond But only now A path lies straight before me The maze is ploughed half through with hate Andpher crop is dripping red Beyond eleventh
and nights to make me realize CHORUS Rescue me from hangin' on this line I won't give up on giving you The chance to blow my mind Let the eleventh hour
he was born and tells him so He takes it in, he hangs his chin, he ducks another blow Did God overlook it What ought have been written The eleventh
realize what this must be Now eons have passed Since the dawn of time When our lord turned water into wine It must be done In the eleventh hour Can't
After the torchlight red on our pale faces. After the frosty silence of agony. Prison and reverberation (of tears) over distant blood. What is that sound
of hours, Covered the ground with a layer of gold. Spirits were high and the raining had stopped, The larder was low, But boy that wasn't all. Eleventh