in this house where nothing is mine only gods
a gracious spirit has passed by bringing us some sweet music
holy harmony of long gone jericho maybe ripped from horn
i remember the hanging gardens of nineveh i dreamed in my tomb
yes there were angels but they were terrible to look upon
with great wings beating cobalt void
voices calling heavens language into the ether
but i have wandered from both my oath and path
in brothel and opium den god still see through men
down every wire the liar is trapped again
the muse i sought was not so easily bought
the discontent of winter gave way to summers blazing bloom
in a courtyard in israel where the camera flare
and music comes like the most perfect distance approaching all whirling strangest strings
flinging things from its centre the music enters from above
covering the plains and planes of men with the strains of gods own song
oh if you can bear to hear it oh mortal man
every drum in every world and worlds we cannot even apprehend my friend
beating out the heart of gods name in blood like flame
suddenly i am eventually reduced to moaning my poem in the dirt of this earth
i crawl and trawl through my desert bible moses madman mayhem
let my people go
i let my people go to the city of sin and sodom down by the transparent sea
there was a bitch of a devil and she was waiting for me
i am an angel too she spat into a darkening storm that hovered high
as she pull out my eyes so i could see she was as blind as me
this nightmare world is gone come morning somewhere i care about
but the question of evil is not leaving so easy just to please thee
god intervene in this dream i sure as silent scream
god in a field in the bright land beyond death
your cross is grown over now in flowers of light
so absorbed in eternal perfection and wondering aloud
each word is a song some world will one day sing
each world slips created into time and is at once complete
oh everything is already there
nothing begins nothing ends
the music composed once lasts in the air forever
it is the very weather it is the birds and it is the fish
its the howling nether beasts who may not exist
oh fox mind siren who sings from her cove
and crazy maenad ripped orpheus for love
music is dripping from gods fingers child i guarantee it
if i couldnt be his singer why would i be it?
i play the blues down in the swamp the monsters come and see it
i arctic harp in the frosted halls and walls under the blackest vault
the women lie close to me to keep their bodies warm they say
but when the darkness comes some hands under my shirt begin to play
through this ice roof i feel his eyes although no surprise
in this wintered cloak we entered underground through a burnt oak
the mulled wine with its almonds and raisins was warm
soon a swarm of shadows had gently enfolded me in sleep
and after that
there were no memories i was allowed to keep
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