Easter

Here in this shroud of light
 Centuries staring at me through the haze
 In a slow demise
 Lines of a song looking away
 In a slow demise
 In a low streaming of scent
 In a touch of Gloria
 I see your face
 In a slow demise
 In a low streaming of scent
 In a touch of Gloria
 I see your face
 Let's have the night
 And drink from the chalice
 In rivers of Saturn
 Bodies pass me by from the tide
 In this sin
 A desire, pollutes the skies of the town
 Determines the upraising
 The oldest breach of the caste, roaring out loud
 Here in a shroud of fright
 Pages of madness staring at me
 Lines of a song atavic
 Veins of a son taken away
 In a slow demise
 In a low streaming of scent
 In a touch of Gloria
 I see your face