Every cycle wanes
and every tide recedes
When the silver light fades
so grows my need

As a man: strong as a god
until the moon is shaved down
Then my true form is returned
when only darkness surrounds

There is a temple ancient
built by the shadows long
who shifted forms they were lent
to set at right what was wrong

Each cycle I must return
to the place my father knew
and there recharge and rest
in the chamber of the moon

Angel waits now at the door
The only two-legs ever here
I've come to trust her a little more
I've never smelt her fear

When it waxes bright
the moon revives
through a keyhole
all my other lives

The temple glows
and my Angel knows
Persuveus again
shall rise