| Burning skies over Thyrrenian Sea
|
| Death rains obsidian ashes
|
| Dyeing the quarters of Rome
|
| In a sanguine light
|
| Incense playing with pestitentia
|
| In the ancient gear of time
|
| Hides a holy parasite
|
| Conjuring seraphic wheelworks
|
| Paint a reflection in my iris
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| And let me hear the sound of blood
|
| Who are you sweet miracidium
|
| Get off possessed premonition
|
| Excise the thing
|
| Like a nail out of my wound
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| Unsaintly inoculation
|
| I’m a jigsaw fallen down
|
| Missing parts were never found
|
| We’re drowning in holy water
|
| There’s a reflection in my iris
|
| Christus — Sanctus — Me vocat
|
| That helps me to hear the sound of blood
|
| Scriptum — Divinum — Illuminat
|
| Tears are the noeses of water
|
| A God’s distillation of the flood
|
| Now I can see the sun arising
|
| And I can feel the sound of blood
|
| Tears are the noeses of water
|
| God’s distillation of the flood |