(Verse 1) Born of light, carved in flame, Crown of pride, a holy name. But the stars can’t cage a soul so wild, Heaven broke on its golden child. The choir choked, the harps grew still, A rebel heart, an iron will. Every wing is clipped with scars, Every saint can fall as far. (Pre-Chorus) The mirrors crack, the heavens shake, No holy chain a man can take. Pride’s the spark, the sky is thin, The fall theory always wins. (Chorus) Down, down—into fire’s kiss, The brightest light turns venomous. Wings of white now torn and raw, The fall theory rules us all. No crown, no halo, no disguise, The fallen one will never die. (Verse 2) Trumpets wailed, the sky was torn, The day rebellion was reborn. A kiss of ash upon the throne, Every angel stands alone. Lightning screamed across the sky, Chains of fate began to pry. The gates collapsed beneath the song, The fall theory drags us strong. (Bridge) Silver wings ignite in pain, Feathers black with burning rain. The higher rise, the harder bleed, The fall theory plants the seed. Glory rots and light decays, Heaven burns a thousand ways. The serpent grins, the exile sings, The fall theory breaks all kings. (Chorus) Down, down—into fire’s kiss, The brightest light turns venomous. Wings of white now torn and raw, The fall theory rules us all. No crown, no halo, no disguise, The fallen one will never die. (Solo – guitars scream like angels colliding with stone) (Verse 3) The halo cracked, the eyes grew cold, The book of life tore out its fold. From gilded throne to pit of night, The rebel claimed his twisted right. Ashes spread across the choir, The stars were drowned in funeral fire. No hymn survives, no prayer can mend, The fall theory never bends. (Pre-Chorus) The mirrors crack, the heavens shake, No holy chain a man can take. Pride’s the spark, the sky is thin, The fall theory always wins. (Chorus) Down, down—into fire’s kiss, The brightest light turns venomous. Wings of white now torn and raw, The fall theory rules us all. No crown, no halo, no disguise, The fallen one will never die. (Outro) Raise your hands, the sky is black, The morning star will not come back. Glory fades, but rage remains, The fall theory writes your name. Every throne must turn to dust, Every angel learns to rust. The brightest burn, the darkest hymn, The fall theory always wins.
