Look at this king in his king’s life
And all these counsellors in their counsellor’s world
Conquest of insane
Will never see what I can see

And all the saints are on wings high
Look at the emperor, hear the emperor’s word
Conquest of lost prayers
But I can see what he can’t see

Down in the yard new young flowers die
Down in the gloom and they weep
And all these said to be dead yet come in
They don’t feel any fear

Every gate seems to close
Every gate of hell
Every creed cremates
Every creed cremates
Every gate seems to close
Every gate of hell
Every creed cremates
Every creed cremates