Awaken like a distant concept So pure and weak inside Alone in the rolling cradle Just learning the Art Lifelines on the waxing canvas Paintdrowned innocence Stains on once-noble answers (Are) weakening, weakening Oh, look and see as the madness is Overhelming, the dying Saints and the lurking nightmares On the fresco's darkest scenes Could ever the canvas be filled Or just the paint would run out As tears dilute the portrait Tears dilute the portrait Oh, look and see that as the strength diminishes And blood colored are all the shapes The shades are beyond all that human - so strange The final touch discolour the paint Dying like forgotten concepts So cold and weak inside Alone in the rotting cradle With a picture, with a picture done