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The Ballad of the Pale Christ
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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 churchbell 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 wintеr in this dogday-age, I kiss the cross but dream of wars A bagatеlle 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
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