Current 93 - the_ballad_of_the_pale_christ

On bended knees we pray for war, a blade draws blood but often tarnishes Through blazing eyes I see new sunsets, sky now breaking different shades of red We pray for blades, ablazing locusts call for wars to wet the earth To cover the world in black and bracken, flaming stubble with church bell battles And then I lie in the arms of a smiling girl who prays to Christ and the pale queens mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow When did I stand before I touched the shadows of this life that touch the dark and dream of ice An endless winter in this dogday-age, I kiss the cross but dream of wars A bagatelle for a massacre or wars of fire were build to last Old men die and stone will turn to stone And then I kiss the mouth of a smiling girl who calls on Christ and the pale queens mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow Immaculate heart of immaculate love a tawdry scarecrow for a tarnished crown His five wounds bleed but only on his throne, his toothless smile cuts wide across his face And then I kiss the mouth of a smiling girl who calls on Christ and the pale queens mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow And what shall I receive a little drum to beat when I march with scorched earth's steps A rocking horse for a little warrior to trample around and down from fields of rape An alabaster doll for the little maid while she waxes and wanes through the blood of the moon And camouflaged smocks for the purest of pure, a masculine mark, and the flag of their shame And I kiss the lips of the smiling girl who calls on Christ and the pale queens mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow And where shall I go back there and back, furthest and far, to the edge of the shore The snow falls thick his mantle of strength descends with a winter on those in his service The snow is the winner Message of winter, your hope shall be crushed The lightflame grows dimmer Child's laughter ceases on a front with no ending Within words with no meaning Child's laughter sickens Child's fever rages Smouldering pages Inquisition! And I die in the arms of a smiling girl who prays to Christ and the pale queens mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow Mighty in sorrow