Ye That Tempteth, Ye That Bequeth

Imagine the starry eyed audience
 chasing us through (the cold slop of) reality
 exhibited as mannequins (in a menage a trois),
 our design would be their wounds
 we would never follow the script, never pass them but a fake smile
 and every movement would be motley, dispelled from morals
 And in the sky there would never be any trace of angels
 the virginal air would be vaguely transparent
 yet it would always be somewhat bright
 the wind would carry us
 (through enormous roars of enthusiastic applause)
 ye would herald the age of immorality, vividly,
 ye would bequeth me the most precious jewellery
 ye seem like such lovely girls, in a most sinful limbo of dreams;
 we should be an oblique part of the opaque scene...
 And in the sky there would never be any trace of angels
 the virginal air would be vaguely transparent
 yet it would always be somewhat bright
 the wind would carry us
 (through enormous roars of enthusiastic applause)