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
Cockatrice Lyrics performed by Final Fantasy are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Cockatrice Lyrics performed by Final Fantasy is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD