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