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My eyes went up to heaven |
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You didn't say i'd be blind |
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Without them |
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Icons-feed the fires |
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Icons-falling from the spires |
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Thine eyes rain down from heaven |
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You always said i'd be blind |
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Without them |
|
Icons-feed the fires |
|
Icons-falling from the spires |
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Those words hang like vicious spittle |
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Dribbling from that tongue |
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Close your eyes to your lies |
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Force feed more pious meat |
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Those nebulous codes and disiplines |
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Stick in that new born throat |
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Instill a lie-an artificial eye |
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To view a perfect land |
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Icons-feed the fires |
|
Icons-falling from the spires |
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Can i?-stick skewers in my skin |
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And whirl a dervish spin |
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Can i?-set myself on fire |
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To prove some kind of desire |
|
Icons-feed the fires |
|
Icons-falling from the spires |
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The guilt is golden |
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The guilt is golden |
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Those ageless lies |
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The shuttered eyes |
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It's the nightpiece |
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It's the icon |
