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Prophetic Souls

de John Zorn

You came ashore
Crying for a blow of eggs in the sand
Blood on the sheets raising heartbeats waiting for them
Crawling back to the sea of Dostoyevsky
Now we must wait for the babies to come; here they come

Hatching in the sun
Now may they seduce the drunks
Watercolors on a cracks game recognized for dreams
We were born in the tidal chaos of assassin's bay
The sour cool will promise you
A death parade
Put a shell to your ear
And you might hear
The sound of me
It's a critiquing song
In the assassin's bay
(Assassin's bay)

The voice that sings your name
Is deeper than sinners faith
Shaping brat with its backloads?
Look for those runs
We were born in the tidal chaos
Of assassin's bay
For those who share the love
You will never go without me
Sadic ritual magic specacle
In deaths parade
Yes, I'm critiquing this song
In the assassin's bay
(Assassin's bay)

As the sea foams
Stone popa moans
The hour glass plays along
Melted heart of bone
With this lover flow
Put a shell to your ear
Maybe you will hear
The sound of my love

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