Circle Of Ouroborus We Come Through The Sun
All the things, the round, the square and the slow
Pointing down to a corner far below
And the light with darkness of memories
I see it bend, coiling in ecstasy
The gathering of mass (or the tainted ones)
Unite with a star, in horizons I watch it pass
I feel the beating and I feel the beat
Bodies are battered, swarming in heat
Centurions of the lowest class
Swaying back and forth with the grass
Then once again we come
Then once again we come through the sun
