Not One Is Upright The Watchmaker
Passion, sweat, and blood
Wash up on this beach of time
From the rites of the temples and the kings to the vile brothels emerge the clockwork face
Grain by grain of sand pass through the hourglass, she shall pass
She measures, pacing, pleasure marks the fleeting seconds
Toe the line
Appetite drives the beast
She is the clockwork's face
Revolve round the thistles and the thorns of this barren earth
Coax the rising tide
Ripples pulse into waves of fury at the earth
And the beast reigns
Until the King returns