I sat looking at the dawn
O'er the gates of Babylon
A vision like no other I had seen
And it seemed almost obscene
To behold such a beautiful thing
The sky spread out her wings like seraphim
And beneath her was a plain
Of pestilence and pain
And I knew that this old world's not going to change
I have drunk the wine of wrath
Cleared demons from my path
In order that I might find a solemn answer
But the methods that I sought
Were not worth the pain she wrought
And I knew I had to find my way out of here
Like the songs that David wrote
The words sticking in your throat
And you know that this old world's not going to change
Were you injured? Were you down?
Were there thorns embedded in your crown?
Was your sceptre made of blood?
Can you see all that you've done?
Were you wounded, wounded, wounded?
Did I let you down?
Were you asking yourself slowly
How the hell you were going to get out?
Through your pain, through your grief
Your muse is but a thief
Who brings with her a kiss that offers healing
And you learn to trust the ones
Who are with you when she's gone
And you're only lifted up these days by kneeling
And I can feel her now
Her lips burning on my brow
And she knew that this old world's not going to change
I am just a troubadour
One who's standing at your door
One who knows that this old world's not going to change