Oh basilisk, oh cockatrice
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

Lyrics submitted by VivaLasVegas

Cockatrice song meanings
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  • 0
    General CommentOwen, Owen protect me
    acityofwebson August 30, 2008   Link
  • 0
    General CommentIt`s so awsome yet sad to call your own name in your own song. So haunting "Owen Owen protect me". I`m singing it over and over here at work like some magic spell no one knows.
    RedBlueGreenon August 27, 2011   Link

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