Her locks were as yellow as gold,
Her skin was white as leprosy.
The Nightmare Life-in-Death was she,
Who thicks man's blood with cold.
Through these fields of destruction,
Baptisms of fire.
I've watched all your suffering,
As the battles raged higher.
Music, lights, beauty and blood! Plunge into it.
Grasp it with those clutching, cloying hands.
Hold it against your dead bosom. Raise it to lifeless lips
and kiss it with a mouth that knows nothing but
obscene lies. This is the vibrancy you cannot feel.
This is the raging excitement you have forgotten.
This is the seductive siren's call you lack.
This is inspiration. This is life.
I tell myself I will not go
Even as I drive there
