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Kiss The Anus Of A Black Cat
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Between Skylla and Charibdis
The crown or cross inspires belief
A condesuous sun glows
On a cloud of night
The beckoning moves
My father spoke to me of rivers
Of which he never tired
Hand in hand with silver lace
They feel so cold
It feels so cold
The curtains close
Lumps in throats
The puppetry
Was wizardry
The beckoning moves
And so the winter reigns without cease
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Oh, so the sun with its thick black rays reached me
Here
Take heed
Take heed
Take heed
Little children believe
In nebulous dreams
Roused by absurd and cosmic streams
And so the rivers abound
The rivers abound
The rivers abound
Doubt the rain but the rain will come
Oh, i've seen your storm.
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