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
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