Archivist - Witch Finder

Текст песни

I recognise
These facets
The pupil dilates
And exposes
The black language enfolded
His eyes lids marked with
Fevered hexes
Hexadecimal interfaces
Your god is binary, one of two
He speaks in forked tongue as do you
In the kind of dulcet words
In the violent ire and stubborn hiss
I must look elsewhere
In the vagrant time
For the purulent thoughts
Of a devil’s design
I must not let it fester!
This splinter rests and distresses
I strain to free it from my sight
This shard, this wretched blight
I lash at skin already bruised
For my love of him is the truth
Oh god! Do not forsake!
How I try to do your bidding!
My sins are only that I cannot see
Every malady
Hands bide, and hands bend
Work each knotted sinew
Wrench the apoplexy
And make with it blessed things
I make use of the divine
And mark the dank anaemic skin
Cut away damnations teat
So no foul familiar can satiate
Flames will lick this corrupted flesh
Clean to the marrow where he rests
The blemish of desired clench
That rends the gore of earth
Wretched wings of blackened things
Cast spells of evil’s eloquence
Tamed to heel with thine perfect word
Listen hard and listen well
I see the forbidden in you
The yearn of wanting fingers
Hands that reach yet withdraw
The living breast, feign to abhor
Oh why do you tempt me Lord!
This test is that which I abhor!
Do not let me look upon
These evil things with regret or lust
For they are seated next to him
The lowest and darkest thing
And I am beside you! Upon the seat
Of golden light!
And yet the rope and knot
Raise the bile from your stomach
You feel ashamed beside the zeal
From which you draw your wrath
What is it that you see?
That courts the hand to reach
And stay the burning flame
To both condemn and covet?
These guiltless strays
Fiend reveal thyself!
Do not question, do not tempt
My weakest notions
I work the will of my lord alone
I respectfully decline
Yet seek the seed of the divine
Your route is marred by obstacles
Of malice and malady
These tools cannot perform
An act to coax the breath of God alone
To assimilate his design
His article of faith with mine