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I drank a goblet of fire |
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I cut out the prophet's tongue |
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But still the sun refused to move |
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I tore a hole in the web of sanity |
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The very fabric of life itself |
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But still this flesh refused to burn |
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What a humble vision! |
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To forever dwell by the grace of the sun |
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I gathered the moon and the stars |
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In my little pouch of planets |
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The renesance of astral flesh |
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Dripping and drooling with universal thirst |
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Equelibrium going under |
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In such an idle state of death |
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Sowing the seeds of a new dimension |
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I am the conqueror in his petty paradise |
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Spinning around in a garden of lush blooming death |
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Point at the sun and |
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I will be there |
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And the angels scattered and bleeding |
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Will be the fundament of my empire... |
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I still laughed at the end. |
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And admidst all this forlorn beauty |
