Lyrics
I keep my eyes open, swollen hot coals, I weep smoke in thick clouds – like – sixty thousand locusts flying out of gods mouth,
I’ll take the southern cross, and show the pharasee avatar crucified, false prophet ragged, heaven stabbed him through the side with a comet made of salt, burning like gehenna’s mouth, turn the center of his chest into a cloud
Scenes in the heavens, using Fire and Feathers to paint a message with the severed hand of Nebuchadnazzar
Balthazar, your gears carry heavy like a cannon wheel
My spirit – is not just a magnetic field
when I press black letters in a testament of stone, Gilgamesh resurrected pressed into a heavy hold like the shoulder of Jacob, - passionate legends, my antenna’s glowing throwing shadows over the desert,
I’ll wake up in the badlands, flopped out and ruined like a ship wreck, Chen Hsu and Fin Fang Foom in the tape deck, rip necks raw like Judas when I take strong rope,
three knots for a druids cord
strike a bell with an oar
two swords in my belt, hold a third in my hand with my forhead burning like a lamp,
I’m taking pictures from Zoroaster and martyrs from the torah so parts of my body organize themselves into scriptures an clay pottery, ashes because my heart is a forest fire, wild, inspiration bleeding outa organs and my eyelids, and lips pried open by leviathin, movilize, thawed from a globe of ice move like my back had wings, my hands and rings make gold out of wood like the unfolding hood of a cobra when I my sould rips out where my shoulder bends
holy clay for the bricks, stack shapes, gold braids buildings lovers and mazes, with thick walls, bold gates that are painted with souls rich cloth, draw myths, lift the rainbow drawbridge
and carry it to Hades, so the dead gods can walk out across it.
Use just a thought and two hands to level a jailyard with hail and salt, I call a maelstrom storm cloud from out of a pouch of sail cloth, Like Essau I’ll seize a bleassing if it moves me, moonbeams
shine through my bandages regrow my hands when I stand up, lantern raised
parsites, phantoms turned into flames
The Mandarin, glows like mars when I stand near god
and my ears ring, icon painted on my shield when I face toward dawn
