Babylon Whores Metatron
Given to crescent moon Chaldean echoes of spectral gloom Like a pen pal of the gods No horns no reply Flowers of sorcery Like pearls before the swine Defying space and time Sez the pineal gland of mine Like, Given to dreaming witches´ lie It´s sweet to close your weary eyes Given to pentacles and more Drunk with the blood of the whore Gimme some Metatron Damn my immortal soul But show me something that I don´t know Gimme some Metatron Given to waning moon Septuagint whispers of impending doom Cautes and Cautopates A shit load of bad ass deities Wore out my shovel Burying monsters where they popped up And it´s OK Doesn´t matter anyway For Babalon above For Babalon below Gimme some Metatron
