cockatrice - final fantasy lyrics
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oh basilisk, oh c-ckatrice
the prophet was a child of flesh
stolen from the family creche
and hidden in the wilderness
a statue on a steepletop
the prophet’s now a man of rock
the hundred thousand in his flock
will gather underneath-a him
owen and i walk among the plots
i’m guided by the slightest touch
with his fingertips upon my neck
i’m made to be a marionette
he asks me how i’d rather go
to burn in the fire or freeze with the snow
well i’d rather die painful and alone
than be a prophet turned to stone
so: owen, owen protect me
from a life everlasting
owen, owen protect me
from a life everlasting
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