Here i sit upon my bleeding throne
You tapered all reaction from my spine
Severed all my angels from me
Took away the death; was to be mine.

Fluttering into my dreams
My ghost, she comes to dance with me
So innocent and sweet and dead
As she flies above my head.
I wonder how she died, so low?
Did happiness it leave her too?
Skin so white her eyes so bare
A soul so grey it cant be there.

Have you come to haunt me?
Or did you come.. to warn me?
..or do miracles they have no meaning?

Hark ! my feral angel sings!!!
A burning soul on burning wings
A torch, to light my way back home
We fly unconscious, we fly numb
She sells bombshells on the seashore
(as) her nations flag lies...
..burning and sore.
The mirror smiles so innocently
It sees right through me..
Sees inside of me..

But my broken wings are slowly healing
Miracles they have no meaning
Miracles they have no feelings
Miracles are numb...like me.