Them like white sheets flagging In the wind foretelling the storms Dancing, as I, glass in hand Watch them from the yard Will them foretell my destiny? If perdition will hold Me here once all is done? Dizzy eyes sight straight To ghost skin that predict the unknown Flames in my throat even iron melts Pleasant is this, and intense Will them foretell my destiny? If perdition will hold me Here once all is done? Will they become One day ghost skin?? Ritual, Christians Fortune tellers Preachers monsters Sanctum, churches So much pain in this world Thousand white sheets drifting Waving, fading hiding Floating, shaking In the eye of the storm Forming Ghost skins