coming through the night i am carried by the wind mansion in my sight i m the redeemer of the sin he met me by the door praying for the dead remembering the war and how i always walked ahead son cry for jerusalem where the order raised their steel to fight the hordes of men and to claim back every hill i walk the night alone unholy friend of fear my flute is made of bone the sound is cold and clear a whisper in the dark my hand will never fail you will know my mark silence will prevail king of the dead 