Death In June In Sacrilege
Solitude is not given
It is earned
In this conspiracy
Of destiny
Empty vessels
Of spermless love
Made of mud and mist
I was possessed
We develop
We delight
We define and
We decay
From within
A sacred power
Acting upon my shame
In pursuit of the impossible nothingness
I found myself
In sacrilege
Shall we die a master-slave
For this dog day age?
Develop and delight and decay
