Six. Six. Six.

Six. Six. Six. 

It's been six years since the devil himself

knocked on my door. 

Charming in his trickery,

Costumed to appear as you, or I, or them. 

Six.. Six. Six. 

It's been six years since the devil himself

led me to the hill. 

Fed me fruits and flowers, 

and then poisened my wine.  

Six.Six.Six.

It's been six years since the devil himself

carried me back to his hell. 

Enveloped me in the darkness of night.

Broke my wings,

and shunned me in the morning. 

Devil, angels don't like to be shunned. 

Feathers grow back and wings heal. 

Flames once smothered ignite in the wind, 

creating a luminous glow 

amongst the chimes of laughter that cannot be stifled. 

Tell me, devil. 

Did you truly believe you could silence the song of an angel?

Are you that naive to think that you would win?

You won the battle on the hill that night. 

But the angel won the war.