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Cold Hate Warm Blood
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Current song lyrics
Late last night at rest with my mate<br />I'm visited by a victim of hate<br />A spectoral group, yet they're one and the same<br />They would never live<br />Nor would they have a name<br />A baby too young to walk or to talk<br />Rocked to sleep with a big, heavy rock<br />Becomes a tot with a baleful glare<br />Sucked from life by a shortage of air<br /><br />A child beyond time without gender<br />Metamorphing to surrender<br />Each shape for one older and still<br />No end to how each could be killed<br /><br />By chance in the polyverse i'm all of these<br />Each to fall prey with unnerving ease<br />To who knows which ambiguous marasmus<br />It asked at once knowing<br />And unknowing the answers<br /><br />To things far removed from my experience<br />Or need to know and thus it thanked me<br />For sparing it death's multiplicitous masques<br />And life's thankless laborious tasks<br /><br />January, child born alas<br />February, still still frail as glass<br />March through a formative period you must<br />April child, in god, distrusts<br />May comes and goes and shortlived is the hope<br />June is the halfway mark of your rope<br />July child fears end of time<br />August child in slow decline<br />September, sense starts to fail<br />October's child, the burden ails<br />November's child malingers on<br />December's child is dead and gone
New song lyrics
Late last night at rest with my mate<br />I'm visited by a victim of hate<br />A spectoral group, yet they're one and the same<br />They would never live<br />Nor would they have a name<br />A baby too young to walk or to talk<br />Rocked to sleep with a big, heavy rock<br />Becomes a tot with a baleful glare<br />Sucked from life by a shortage of air<br /><br />A child beyond time without gender<br />Metamorphing to surrender<br />Each shape for one older and still<br />No end to how each could be killed<br /><br />By chance in the polyverse i'm all of these<br />Each to fall prey with unnerving ease<br />To who knows which ambiguous marasmus<br />It asked at once knowing<br />And unknowing the answers<br /><br />To things far removed from my experience<br />Or need to know and thus it thanked me<br />For sparing it death's multiplicitous masques<br />And life's thankless laborious tasks<br /><br />January, child born alas<br />February, still still frail as glass<br />March through a formative period you must<br />April child, in god, distrusts<br />May comes and goes and shortlived is the hope<br />June is the halfway mark of your rope<br />July child fears end of time<br />August child in slow decline<br />September, sense starts to fail<br />October's child, the burden ails<br />November's child malingers on<br />December's child is dead and gone
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