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Kadian - Leibniz (The Morphine Celebrant) | Текст песни

Proboscis of blank fire
Swans dry in the machinery of water
Bless the feathers of the moon
Dormition of the tea-rose in the televisic nightmare
The scalpel pierces the vein of the flower
Acetyline angels drift like carrion in the blustering ring of night
The courtyards bellow sick phrases and a child’s doll
Hangs from a telephone wire, cut and murdered by
The industry of wet skin and perdition
The citizens of hell rally a pot of hemlock
To be conferred on the absolute kin of Thrasymachus
The wanderings are blear and the uncertain lips of
Two thousand martyrs kiss the gravel sky in lonely prayer
For floods
The iron collar unfurls and the tail of Leviathan roams
The cunt of the toothless virgin; where are my hours of repentance?
Where is the mystery of the shadow in the unmoored continent?
Straffed by innumerable gardens, resigned to quiet ghosts
I am your sleeve of heroin
I am your century of insect
I am your herb of daisy-like cyanide
The spoor of suicide persists on the bed of your eyelashes

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