On the «grand Saint Antoine», the crow’s nest
is the last haven in this fuckin’ cell.
And up here,
we can feel hell blowing…
It storms on our heretic face.
Cannibals are huddled down there
and laid siege on the deck
Feeding their soul with love
for dead-eyed models
And ready to hit everyone
who dares not to sell
Their body and name to illusions they serve
«Hope» that got off their word
is rotting on the river’s left shore.
what could those who crossed
these muddy banks share?
If that’s not just fears and regrets ?
(-The sandman is speaking to us
from the crowd of cannibals :)
«You, the sheeps of God, our sweet Lord,
you shall rock
the quick and the dead
at his appearing and his kingdom.
All those you see around come up like :
- the ones who like all the pretty songs
- And they like to sing along
- and they like to drink beer bongs
But they don’t know what it means
So come join me in Eden,
where are drawn lines of heaven
That the common run of idiots
spends a lifetime working for none
And take place amongst the sentries
who look out for their sleep
Cause you and I know well
that a soft bed
Seals the strongest of the wills
better than a grave »