I have awoken him and he comes
With the bellowing of a bull
Under the full moon
From a spiral of candles
Inside a circle of stone
He comes to reap what I have sown
He will cut off my head
In the name of St. Michael
Because the old king must die
That is the eternal cycle
He will cut off my head
In the name of St. Michael
Because the old king must die
That is the eternal cycle
A new knight is born
But not the true king
Until I am purified
And fear no created thing
With a sword-edged mind
Separating future from past
Realizing their essential illusion
And knowing that neither can last
I awoke today, and so did he
I awoke the One,
Who will someday... be the death of me.