[Lyrics: O.A.Myrholt]
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[Music: T.E.Tunheim]
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Imagine the starry eyed audience chasing us through (the cold slop of) reality
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exhibited as mannequins (in a menage a trois), our design would be their wounds
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we would never follow the script, never pass them but a fake smile
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and every movement would be motley, dispelled from morals
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And in the sky there would never be any trace of angels
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the virginal air would be vaguely transparent
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yet it would always be somewhat bright
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the wind would carry us
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(through enormous roars of enthusiastic applause)
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ye would herald the age of immorality, vividly,
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ye would bequeth me the most precious jewellery
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ye seem like such lovely girls, in a most sinful limbo of dreams;
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we should be an oblique part of the opaque scene...
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And in the sky there would never be any trace of angels
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the virginal air would be vaguely transparent
|
yet it would always be somewhat bright
|
the wind would carry us
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(through enormous roars of enthusiastic applause)
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Ye That Tempteth, Ye That Bequeth
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| Enslavement Of Beauty |
