The Wax Mistress

It's a paradise
Face a foolish beast
Crush disintegrate
Twist the rippling day
Craft a testament
Go to ever ledge
I see weeping thorn
I see pictures of the temptation bridge
In my dusty rooms
In my giant fish
To the real deep
Out beyond the sill
With the marks of goat on my innocence
And all cornered men choose a different fate
And even daze this long lament

And then came near
And this their deuce
The bowling pin
Umbrella lift
Hold this indeed
A colder tide
The holy wake
The hood is black
It's destiny the bones of trance
Why must I speak the potter's grave
East of rain a fertile plain
Why must I be
Why must I die
Why must I want
Why must I cry

The fainting ear
The distant cease
The gold appear
The river falls
The living peace
It's cold inside
A lonely way
Take that sting make it light
Dead ahead potter's grave
In the day it will take
Folds of grief into gone
Folds of days