Wrong Nigga to Fuck Wit
defeat in spiritless action
Isolation - burn the greenwood
Order of the vertical path
Descendent crawl in the remnants of one thousand lies
Restaging torching a world that was left behind
Zodijackyl light
Cross the sharpest void
deride the embers of his faith
The bringer of that on million horses ride
Waiting for the call within, the spark of sin
ever reminiscent of the coming of storm
Can you see the cosmic face
in which disorder lies
Burning of oppression
the inventors
is the killing hand<
Good Friday
Sat at my window watched the world
Wake up this morning
Purple sky slowly turning golden,
Distant elms so orange
You'd swear they're burning
All this flowing water
Has got my mind wandering.
Do you ever finally reach
A point of knowing
Or do you just wake up one day
And say, I am going?
What will I tell you
When you ask me why I'm crying
Will I point above
At the Red Tail gracefully soaring
Or down below where it's prey
Is quietly trembling?
Two thousand years ago Jesus is left there hanging.
Purple sky slowly turning golden.
Cowards at his feet loudly laughing.
Loved ones stumbling homeward
Their words reeling.
Red Tail above my head quietly soaring.
Waters turn from ice, creak is roaring.
He says, enough of all this shit I am going.