The candle stutters β shadows gnaw the stone The monk bites his tongue β God leaves his throne Ink turns to blood β the script begins to crack The mirror repeats what never comes back Heaven in chains β the cross bends back Under the stains β the virgin cracks She births the thorns β the clockwork dies The abbot sows what he can't hide Iconoclast β no prayer, no saint Just smaller and smaller until we faint The pattern is torn β the song is done And I am the hammer β I am the one The plague wears velvet β she kisses the cup The bell tolls backwards β the choir gives up I saw the cosmos in a drop of tar A million faces β and I am all of them so far Heaven in chains β the cross bends back Under the stains β the virgin cracks She births the thorns β the clockwork dies The abbot sows what he can't hide Iconoclast β no prayer, no saint Just smaller and smaller until we faint The pattern is torn β the song is done And I am the hammer β I am the one I am the last hammer β swinging through light Fingers are splinters β ribs are a cage tonight They burn me β they praise me β they eat my name But every statue still breaks the same The bells are stone β they do not ring The king is bone β he has no king The chalice drips with snake and dust The lips that drank have turned to rust Iconoclast β the choir is me A thousand voices β a single plea I kneel and laugh β the wound is wide And I am the shaft β and I am the tide The tide recedes β the idols crack I wash the thrones β I don't look back The salt of saints between my teeth There is no god beneath the wreath
