Current 93 I Looked To The Southside Of The Door
Adam stands on docetic mountain
The woman's face is full of stars
In the words of the book
And with the lips of the book
And the trumpet and the seal
And the candlestick that lights
Up your bed with seeds and flowers
And the lion on your rug
That's roaring like a lamb
On the rack and on its back
I call the martyrs on wheels
To this piss-poor mess
And the blood spreading like flies
Under the table and the gable
Breathing curtains of eyes
That shift uneasily
And sniff like foxes at count
With feathers following the mind
That stitches quilts
And pours cats into comets
Oh microwave oh galaxy kill
All the night and its names
On docetic drawn mountain
My dragon arises
Scaling plastic Christs
With no back and no face
He has stolen space
And has solemn to spare
And kisses mountains
Covered with useless snow
For Paise and for Thekla
Under low volcanoes
Fearful wails to fall
Under his brothers
And Bloodface kills again
And smothers the wheels
Drawing in the dirt
There is Ashkai
Under psychic attack since eight
I saw the bells by the jar
I saw the teeth in the jaw
And saw the pale drains
Mind sinking empty wine
Useless in the heathen Eden
How great was the jungle
Dogs clutch heads and
Catch and call fall bulls
Murmuring like lovely streams
That pulse and hurtle
My clock shot shut
