The Song of the Damned
Spring forth O song
Arise from soul imprisoned ye songs of Christ
Though I would stammer and stutter of worthlessness
Though the bowels of hell be mine—served hard and deserved
Sing ye yet my sins' own soul—in spite of me—sing ye of Jesus
Rise up my hollow bones
in pirouettes of stumbling grace when white in ash of death
to dance and dance and dance for this Christ and risen King
Clatter ye, my skull lips—
rattle off orgasmic crescendos of skeletal "Holy, Holy, Holies…"î
as I flounder dismembered in pain to pain
Cindering in this evil's hottest hell—
redeem my torment's scream of eternal agony
into shimmering crimson rays of infinite praise
to him
who is Lord
Sing my soul… sing ye damned with your charred and molten lips
Sing ye of Jesus… and sing… and sing… and sing…
Spring forth O song
Arise from soul imprisoned ye songs of Christ
Though I would stammer and stutter of worthlessness
Though the bowels of hell be mine—served hard and deserved
Sing ye yet my sins' own soul—in spite of me—sing ye of Jesus
Rise up my hollow bones
in pirouettes of stumbling grace when white in ash of death
to dance and dance and dance for this Christ and risen King
Clatter ye, my skull lips—
rattle off orgasmic crescendos of skeletal "Holy, Holy, Holies…"î
as I flounder dismembered in pain to pain
Cindering in this evil's hottest hell—
redeem my torment's scream of eternal agony
into shimmering crimson rays of infinite praise
to him
who is Lord
Sing my soul… sing ye damned with your charred and molten lips
Sing ye of Jesus… and sing… and sing… and sing…