The Child, And Fire
de Current 93
Kings and things were on the
Back of my drunken house
Those days
Always mixed with stupid twists of tribes
Or times
Make this your murder sigil mass
Twice thrice more times than you can call
Spite my face
I dreamt the damned speed night
One stroke two stroke three stroke
War toll
Passion day in the horsie's play
His mouth at bared kiss
The nihil trilling the hip of night
The navel of the ghost queen
Her mouth crowned with suns
Whilst it rains
Boats pour out into the waves of myrrh
Hymned myths and bullshit
The sarcastic arch of times
Diseased and deceased
Released cobras into your pure pur fires
Looked at her beautiful profile
As sweet as all the Alephs
Lusted for smiles without sheen
Wall or drops
I couldn't buy my way out of
Bruises by this date
Qabalistic trickery unworks
The natural DrakBark
Whiskered and glitching
Electronic face of hymn her
Who is your night?
Who is your own angel?
Who is your own Name?
The stunted statue remains
Encolumned
Manhide lost to the bridgebuilder
And cenobitic grope from behind Maat
Running simultaneously to the Lupar tribes
In deserts in Afghan nylon skene
They loll and wait for Oz
To arrive in time for the theme crime
The notes and menus of the sage
On the ridge in his boiled shell
Barrett!
Emphatic you touched me in perfumes
And sugars and almonds
In the ded red night
There were ghosts in the bed
By the piano dead
Announcing Japanese slaughter
Arriving for beheading
The dogs roll heads with China
The cattes roll dead with the shepherd's KillKill
The monsters all moulted of shedded hair
And feathers and skinned
And shifted into the greed of us all
Yesu Yesu Yesu
Nox Spelled right from death
Of motorbikes arisen
Dodged the bullets from sidereal Bimini
And enforced his own abbey
In and over the secret Atlantis
And watch
Oh clock
The cows climb domes
Spoon and belt
And bone and the night hounds home
En te arche was the arch
En te arche the archon
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