|
Opera De Trance
Silence, my child
And bear your gifts of love
Feed me, feed me
Your drops of angel's blood
When will my body live?
When will my body begin to live?
"It will live when you die
You will die when you drink
Of the highest priest" |
A Saint Is Weeping
Curdled milk in wine
The lingering taste of yesterday
My color has grown pale
Your face I see no more
A pointed finger accuses me
So dead, so numb, so cold
With every illicit embrace
A splintered soul is cast aside
If I see the face of God I will die...
It's killing me slowly
A drop of blood day by day
My mind defiles its temple
My mansion shared with swine
My seed mixing in a harlot's womb
How many bastards will I create?
Will I see my dead expression?
And failures in their eyes
If I see the face of God I will die!
Cut my cord, let me drift away
This morning's foul, I can endure no more
My days are cruel
My mistress never slumbers
And sorrow never leaves me
Like the cuts in my flesh
And the sun refuses to shine
And the walls rile against me
And these knuckles raw and broken
The futile throes of freedom
And somewhere, a saint is weeping
Whispering my name
Saying, "Let him see the face of God
Let him die." |
Whispers Of Dead Sisters
Whispers to me, my depression
With a hint of murder
Watch them, the angels are forlorn
Watch them, they share my soul
I hide my face to cry
Why do I feel this kiss upon me?
I crave your presence
but the priests are pointing at me
They have made me your betrayer
But I whisper your name in the dark
Anger rests on my fingertips
A place where God (I am told) no longer lives
A mass of flesh they love to beat
But not without identity
On scabby knees I continue to crawl
The sores are open and blood trails behind
Rocks and stones meld into my skin
My body is a home for plagues
I hope the paradise is good, it must be
But the turbulence makes me brittle
I cannot see
I find myself holding hatred, it clings to me
I killed a man in my mind, I wanted him dead
Yes I have faith, Yes I am saved
But it doesn't stop my misery
It doesn't stop my hatred
It doesn't stop me wanting to die
Yet I'm still here despite the pain
I refuse to believe I was called to suffer...
I was called... to prosper. |