While the Mighty One waits with arms spread like wings,
the weight of the world bends the bones in your back,
Your mind is a cloud full of immoral things.

You're blinded and deafened by idols and sins,
Restive yet lifeless on this spiraling track,
While the Mighty One waits with arms spread like wings.

The excuse of a trapdoor locking you in,
Lies useless by golden stairs in the back,
Your mind is a cloud full of immoral things.

Your heart's been broken and ripped out by its strings,
A hole through the middle from the love that you lack,
While the Mighty One waits with arms spread like wings.

You pass around your soul despite the sad song it sings,
Its empty and fruitless and ravenous and black,
Your mind is a cloud full of immoral things.

Ideals of society glide faster than swings,
and your temptations line up to plan their attack,
While the Mighty One waits with arms spread like wings,
Your mind is a cloud full of immoral things.