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Description
dear lady upon the whispering winds
what have you bought
what have you bought
what has it wrought?
to believe in the lie
to steal and hide
nothing ever satisfies

into the bowl drop the grains of time
into the cup pour the wine of space
to be stirred by the winds of chaos
build castles on the empty beach
so the roiling seas
may sweep them away

the crown of a thousand eyes
upon the master's heads
the mistress
the may queen
has no place to clean
it is dying
it is dying
all is dead

the fool plays the tune
madly piping away
the flowers of romance
have turned to dust
and blown away
the rays of the sweet sun
matches not the beauty
of the dying light

lie upon the cold stones
and your hair let kiss
the dank earth
for the power of above
is no match for that
which lies below

lamb of god
slaughtered by sword of zain
blood of the mythical savior
profaned by the lips of a whore
and the tongue of a demon
in a kiss of unholy passion

upon an altar of blackest flame
the scent of ambergris fills the air
as the serpent slithers
into its sacred lair
to be adored by those chosen
and its wings anointed by
the few who know

secrets that spiral
into labyrinths that
stretch into vast tunnels
burrowing worms which devour
strands of time and shreds of space
endless hunger for annihilation
to be reunited with the void
and the vast wasteland beyond

kiss of the spider
upon the lips of the serpent

Description
dear lady upon the whispering winds
what have you bought
what have you bought
what has it wrought?
to believe in the lie
to steal and hide
nothing ever satisfies

into the bowl drop the grains of time
into the cup pour the wine of space
to be stirred by the winds of chaos
build castles on the empty beach
so the roiling seas
may sweep them away

the crown of a thousand eyes
upon the master's heads
the mistress
the may queen
has no place to clean
it is dying
it is dying
all is dead

the fool plays the tune
madly piping away
the flowers of romance
have turned to dust
and blown away
the rays of the sweet sun
matches not the beauty
of the dying light

lie upon the cold stones
and your hair let kiss
the dank earth
for the power of above
is no match for that
which lies below

lamb of god
slaughtered by sword of zain
blood of the mythical savior
profaned by the lips of a whore
and the tongue of a demon
in a kiss of unholy passion

upon an altar of blackest flame
the scent of ambergris fills the air
as the serpent slithers
into its sacred lair
to be adored by those chosen
and its wings anointed by
the few who know

secrets that spiral
into labyrinths that
stretch into vast tunnels
burrowing worms which devour
strands of time and shreds of space
endless hunger for annihilation
to be reunited with the void
and the vast wasteland beyond

kiss of the spider
upon the lips of the serpent