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Heal me, mizzling modern mood has moistened me folly statue at day

Heal me, mizzling modern mood has moistened me invicible saviour at night

Wash me clean, wash me clean, wash me clean

Hold me up, pull me down, steal my dream

Eat this war, eat this raw, beat this self

A mussed up thought process defends me from its shelf

It's hard to tell that this heaven has just brightened up to loose myself

It's hard that you've just brightened up to loose grip on me

But's easy to see that a God hides behind such truth of none

But's easy to hear that I see that you loose grip on me

Wash me clean

Hold me up

Eat this war

Defend me

Wash me clean

Defend me from it's shelf

"And they say - the starry choir

And the other listening things

That Israfeli's fire

Is owing to that lyre

By which he sits and signs

The trembling living wire

Of those unusual strings"

Wash me clean, wash me clean, wash me clean

Hold me up, pull me down, steal my dream

Eat this war, eat this raw, beat this self

A mussed up thought process defends me from its shelf