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Machines Of Loving Grace Concentration Ancestor Cult Let's take an ambulance ride To the place where amnesia fills our eyes Stuck in that summer sister The blood was like a river flowing The earring dangles from the point of entry To the wicked root of this the solid gravity And I am connected to the people ahead of me By a tangled stream of blood and entropy And I am a child of the twentieth century And I recall that the others ahead of me Filled their eyes, they filled their eyes Suck in that stomach sister The fruit within your loins expanding A strange locked code overflows Our occidental ancestral home The limb, popped from it's socket Genetic weakness from the eighteenth century The limb, popped from it's socket Genetic who knows what from god knows when |
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