|
The day the Equinox arrived, our pilgrimage began |
|
1200 miles, a cruise missile to our unholy land |
|
We were fucking stoked unlike we'd been |
|
Since we were pimpled, pube-less teens |
|
(And he still has zits!) |
|
From every corner of the world our fellow maniacs arrived |
|
To prove the meaning of the tunes had not been lost through time's |
|
Antiquity, but had survived |
|
To leave this monumental sign |
|
They say you can't relive the past |
|
But as the lights went down it all came rushing back |
|
Half a life away, the night |
|
For the first time in a lonely life, a young soul took flight |
|
They stormed the stage, a thrashing rage |
|
We all screamed "Terminate!" |
|
A half-head in a whale shirt went and breathed it in my face |
|
I didn't care, could not impair this rhapsodic, transcendental state |
|
When the music died, two ends of time had been neatly tied |
|
Descending lights had scorched the plains, returning kings back to reclaim |
|
Lost disciples that had remained |
|
To tend the flames |
|
We stormed into the streets, a pack of tragic troglodytes |
|
We waited for our bus then rode it hard into the night |
|
Far beneath the cold, robotic sweep |
|
Of the radar operator's pale green glow |
|
20,000 leagues below |
|
To the place where all the best bands go |
