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A Song For Douglas After He's Dead

This song is by Current 93 and appears on the album Thunder Perfect Mind (1992).

He crouches on the floor, there's a mask on the wall.
And he leafs, through the pages of a book.
But wait as he may in the shadow of other leaves.
His heart, in embraces to times long since scorched.

The horizon folds over, with a purpose sun rise.
And the wind, carry smoke, from a world that is burning.
The smoke clogs in his hair, and he's covered with patterns.
And a decent, of life trees, on his camouflaged soul.
With a winter of memories, carved ponder bone white.
Beyond his skulls form, a scorpion lies.
In the crunch of the snow, as his darkness increases.
A twilight of ice, encircles his teeth.

This is a song for Douglas, after he's dead.
This is a song for Douglas, his mercury dances.

There's a swastika carved, in the palm of his hand.
There's a crooked cross, that is caught in his mind.
There waits a falling sun, in his eyes.
There's the honor, of violence, on his lips.
His father waits for him, at the towers of silence.
Where they worship the fires, so long ago cringed.
But the two willow trees, with el has inverted.
The fork of life snapped.
They are father and son.
So mingling dust, as if life itself, had been mostly illusion.
But partially real.
And partially pain.

And over some wall, if you look through the rubble.
Amongst ruins of churches, where life conquers death.
Thou empires can not last, where blood and soils concepts,
Faltered and failed.
A cloud still sow his teeth.
As the world disappears.

This is a song for Douglas, after he's dead.
This is a song for my Douglas, his mercury dances.

["As the World Disappears" Version:]
He crouches on the floor, there's a mask on the wall
And he leafs through the pages of a book
But wait as he may in the shadow of other leaves
His heart in embraces to times long since scorched

The horizon folds over with a purpose sun rise
And the wind carry smoke from a world that is burning
The smoke clogs in his hair and he's covered with patterns
And a descent of life trees on his camouflaged soul
With a winter of memories carved ponder bone white
Beyond his skull's form a scorpion lies
In the crunch of the snow, as his darkness increases
A twilight of ice encircles his teeth

This is a song for Douglas, after he's dead
This is a song for Douglas, whose mercury dances

There's a swastika carved in the palm of his hand
There's a crooked cross that is caught in his mind
There waits a falling sun in his eyes
There's the honor of violence on his lips
His father waits for him at the towers of silence
Where they worship the fires so long ago quenched
And the two willow trees, with el has inverted
The fork of life snapped, they are father and son
So mingling dust, as if life itself
Had been mostly illusion but partially real
And partially pain

And over some wall, if you look through the rubble
Amongst ruins of churches where life conquers death
Thou empires can not last where blood and soils concepts
Have faltered and failed
A cloud still sows teeth
As the world disappears

This is a song for Douglas, after he's dead
This is a song for my Douglas, may his mercury dance

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