Graying Wasteland

As I climb into the skies Atop sins towered heaven high for me From whence I see no reason why I should not smite with vengeance And hurl thieves down from paradise For storms before were as nothing more Than a breeze next to this night I am Methuselah of the Tribulation The Moonchild come to harm A riot of stars shaken from their station The choking smoke of Jerusalem burning Six vices become wrath...