Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song With the Dromedaries, artist - Current 93. Album song I Am the Last of All the Field That Fell (A Channel), in the genre Иностранный рок
Date of issue: 09.03.2014
Record label: David Tibet
Song language: English
With the Dromedaries |
With the dromedaries, lambs and whore |
He wrote him gardens, glistens the dreamers |
If I had a wish to clear the dusk |
And through the lunadisc |
I would add perfumes onto paper |
And sitting serpents smoking fags |
Or doing speed, drinking mead |
As plastic viking or driven raven |
Her strangle, my pasts, off with my vanished head |
Off with the armorial dead |
Off to the burial ground, the round grave carnival |
The dragon in the bolo bag, oh, Anis in lipstick |
For salmon in high heels, salamander in drag |
The pass nail to the mast of blood and blinks |
The modular winks |
From the armadillos amens or queens |
Homosexual heavens on twin, and here comes counts |
You are that judgement with what you are |
You will be embraced by the kindness of the king |
Christ descends, death above |
Jesu god whose home is the cross |
Humor little children, honor the hoop and the bell |
And the apple and the ball bow to the crow |
In the long horizon the naked woman bathe |
But the mountains or the clouds by the tree Vaimas |
Jades bob down to your drown |
Whose your favorite model, wooden comatosel one? |
Star scarred hair, have you clipped the knight? |
Tight to your thighs, have you met her two cats? |
Have you treated yourself to her golden milk? |
One meal a day at night, let’s discuss denim |
Or the weather of my dead friends |
Who pass by my window as i scribble this baltod |
I out of Babylon who almost snapped in Berlin |
Twice nights ago, then open glossed onto |
George street, I saw John pass by, his Hermes joins move |
Uncoiling hipsters who then into Draco whose rathe arise |
Beheaded wine, gardens aimed but the middle |
But the midden ball’s eyes hindu slang, Yip kill, caesers, kaisers, |
czars shatter |
Lugal, lugal |
From the thick step of the clock |
The ground droner flies on horseflies and chestnuts seas |
And fell beach, yoke torn from the night |