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Rites of a sacred kind

A kind which worship an almighty Creator

They bask inside there sewn

To reap what is begotten

Reaping what is sewn

Sewn to the earth and sky

A sky which has fallen to dusk

A sun darkened to ashes

A moon riveted in blood

Blot out the Sun

Cross out my eyes

For they are blind to reason

There's a reason for being

There's a reason for life and death

So destroy your trinket idols

And graven thy soul before the dusk

These are the last rites

Rites of a sacred temple