Believers of the Unpure

Kiss the past
 Waiting for the eyes
 Brimstone jewellery surrounds your face
 Fire burns my soul
 White medieval women
 Make an exhibition of flesh
 Under black parasols
 And all the leather, furs, flowers and lust
 This is where we belong
 This is where we belong
 Kiss the past
 The minstrels perform
 Here children have freedom of desire
 Rose masquerade
 The old man's glass face
 Eyes move still alive, tears cascade
 His last parade
 And all the leather, furs, flowers and lust
 This is where we belong
 This is where we belong
 Kiss the past
 Kiss the past
 Kiss the past
 Kiss the past
 Kiss the past
 Kiss the past
 Kiss the past
 Kiss the past
 And all the leather, furs, flowers and lust
 This is where we belong
 This is where we belong
 Unworthy captives with palms sweat wet
 Kiss the past
 This is where we belong
 Believers of the unpure
 Kiss the past
 This is where we belong
 Believers of the unpure
 Kiss the past
 This is where we belong