Albrecht Durer, 1498
See the burning face above me
Feel the burning fires below
Hand of God marking off each hour
Cutting deep down into the bone
Every day is getting longer
Every word is said so slow
Time is sleeping on the crosses
Dust is dreaming in the rose
You with your ring of judgement
Around the flesh and around the bone
You never told me where your soul went
I saw it creeping back into its hole
