The Witching Hour

Three on the clock — a zone of the dead,
Time frozen fast in the concrete dragon’s head.
The old world sleeps in sticky fear and lies,
The new one’s not yet born, where the border dies.
The city is stifled, the lights have gone black,
In this hollow void, there is no turning back.
We stand at the edge where the steel starts to melt,
Staring into the black, the abyss we have felt.

Can you hear it? The shell of time starts to crack.
Can you see it? The shadow is fighting its way back.
This is no fever, no daze of the mind,
Reality shatters the screen from behind!

It’s the Witching Hour — three hours till the dawn!
Burn what was sacred, let it be gone!
A voice pierces through the midnight air,
A world is born in the vortex there!
Hour of transformation, the pulse hits the line,
Souls leave the flesh, leaving cocoons behind.
The Witching Hour — outside the grid’s duty,
The hour of awakening… a different beauty!

Prime Meridian, the point of the void,
The last of the bridges are burnt and destroyed.
The glass-faces stayed in the ghosts of the past,
The great game is starting, the shadows are cast.
No names and no titles, just current under skin,
We aren’t like the gods in the hour we are in.
We are the chaos, we are the light,
In the Witching Hour — the answer shines bright.

Old world…
Sleep forevermore.
New world…
Become who we are!

(Chorus)

The spiral has turned, the cycle is through,
We’re no longer prisoners, no longer we rue
The limits and bottoms we once used to know —
We are the fire, we start the glow.
The string under bow turns into a nerve,
In the labyrinth of steel — the only crest we deserve.
Transformation of will, the collapse and decay,
In the Witching Hour, the world finds its way!

(Chorus)

It’s the Witching Hour — three hours till the dawn!
The point of no return.