|
Foetus god descends in silence |
|
a bastard deity for us to believe |
|
blasphemy of gen collage |
|
in backward sombre involution |
|
Foetus god abortion of the Diine |
|
latent rape of wet, lewd womb |
|
man-made myth to blunt in mind |
|
the vilest offence of five senses |
|
Undone miracles never to come |
|
invalid rise of slave thought |
|
the only light its dawn can shed |
|
is from burnt wisdom and shimmering greed |
|
Thine is not the Kingdom |
|
no trace of strength I see |
|
no Mercy to expect |
|
a seed of claws upon your lips |
|
As pure wit turns into effusions |
|
we, snakes of Truth, ex and devour |
|
gods manifested in twisted images |
|
astrally hunted in shadow and soul |
|
Sweet holy shiftless godsend meat |
|
I bet you listen to this psalm of me |
|
Sweet holy shiftless godsend meat |
|
I bet you listen to this psalm of me |
|
little by little, one by one |
|
the thorns become the real crown |
|
Thine is not the Kingdom |
|
no trace of strength I see |
|
no Mercy to expect |
|
a seed of claws upon your lips |
