| Holy song will banish his presence not
|
| For song is for peasant fools
|
| Holy song will banish not the past
|
| For the past is always here
|
| Holy song will banish his presence not
|
| For his presence is for sinning fools
|
| Holy song will banish not the ghosts
|
| For their sorrows are always here
|
| His light disappears
|
| And the mind veers
|
| To woodcut horrors
|
| And ancient fears
|
| Lamentation will save your lost soul not
|
| For lamentation is for holy fools
|
| Lamentation will alter not the past
|
| For the past is always alive down there
|
| Lamentation will save your lost soul not
|
| For lost souls are but fuel for the furnace fires
|
| Lamentation will appease not the ghosts
|
| For their sorrows always wait down there
|
| His light disappears
|
| And the mind veers
|
| To woodcut horrors
|
| And ancient fears
|
| «Heu, miseri, heu, miseri!
|
| Quid, homo, ineptam sequeris laetitiam?»
|
| Fiery hues of hell
|
| Spiral deep into vaults;
|
| Sprung from a serpentine demon
|
| Born of medieval terrors
|
| «You, of the utter absence of love
|
| You, of the utter absence of joy
|
| You, of the utter denial of all expiation»
|
| When the celestial ones have sent for you
|
| And there is no return
|
| When the astral traveler commands equinoctial points
|
| And the strangest waters churn
|
| When superstitions come alive
|
| The zealot’s mind must accept
|
| There is glory in utter degradation |