Current 93 - My Name Is Nearly All That's Left I | Текст песни

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• Current 93
• My Name Is Nearly All That's Left I

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The invisible church
Born into your mouth
Dreams purr into your cundom
From your horizon of grace and bolts
And heard the water breach in Cox
Your children are my children
I and you sourced them
And soared up to the streams and quit
Thus I misspelt all
The saids—heard just swirls kill tuned
Funnelled and bred the dark night
He hummed to me and ergo ego
The voice in voice and void
If I hinted "his is the fog"
Would you swim drinking mist and agree
With me that "oh how divine to sink
Or swim dreaming of him and Al and
La belle époque splashing twins and the..."
And the Gospel—live and die
4 last things whilst the train chuckles along
Hymning your traced seed?
Shall we—can we—execute?
I heard lists of houses, creeks, small fishes
With Judah banners—there was something
Dead in the jigsaw
Well jagged you sped into the twilit
Plucked thistles kissed cowslip
Drinks hosted to the goddess Shirley
Frater—what is the state of ghosts?
The sex of stars?
In the frame of the lashed face
Under the turretted galaxy
On that boat I smelt of horsies
And whistled the death plumb disco
Anger and stupid arise
In my moon garden
Pulled straps on my lips
And read Acts VII: 48 read
Romans II: 2 read
Romans II: 23 read
Romans too II: 29 and
Approach the gentle core of the sealed
And the master of the moonsmile
It is all Greek to see and Spell
And count drinking the letters
Crowned with bars and nails
Those flowers grew tauta grapho humin
Hina, and Babylon blethesetai
Babylon kai never found but
In your heart the ghost of Gary Glitter
In black dragon dance
Blethesetai blethesetai
There was no Hanging Garden
Nor sable nor nail
And Saul became Paul
Before the ascent on his fall
From Adam to Eden
And from Eve at the Beast
From Cain at the apocryphal pomegranate feast
From the moving fingers
That wrote for the šarrum
And the crash of the image
And the death of the lineage
From Shadrach and Mishach
At knee in the flame
With their friend in the end
In purpureal stain
From the tip of my tongue
To the drought in your heart
From the ships in the sky
And the pyramid eye
From the cobbler at rest
And the night in her nest
And the firemen at play
Whilst her moon eats the day
From the singing fingers
And the hooves of the stars
From the heavenly writing
That is written in dusk
From the archer and the scorpion
And the stars behind them
From the goodnights and sleeptights
At the end of the knife
From the "thank Christ"
And "praise God"
When we're naked as bone
From the ghost on the telephone
Screaming for home
From the quick in their bed
And the beds of the dead
From the ÉN šiptu
In the clay
And the utter Judgement Day
For the plagues and the rage
And the noose of the news
Through the barrage of mirage
That barcodes through rays
As a thief in a blink
With the Lamb as the link
As the question and answer
The prophetic Cross dancer
The gift and the rift
The present and desert
The field of bled woods
The farmer in Akeldama
The leukos the logos
The alpha the pi
The burster of graves
The looser of slaves
The fear in the night
When Nyx mounts the light
The spring in your step
And the bend of your neck
To the sword with no peace
Nor cozy release
To the camel the cub
The JayBird above
The warrior
The quarreler
The quarrier
Angry as clouds
Drowned by the rain
Lashed my flower high
And said "thank you night"
Make the clay as wet as your wedge
The Greek dark mouth
Copper or bronze dusk
More like I am approaching the
Traingod and I shout at you
"Pentagram hexagram
Under your telegram"
With your Hammurabi eyes
And your Serapis smiles
Your spirits of the air
Ran through me
I vanished which cellulo