He woke up, as his flesh fell off ... slice by slice, Floating high up in the air, more than tenthousand miles. He said, he was crucified underneath a baneful sky, Had nails through feet and hands, Yes, also nails in his eyes. In defiance of all living things he hang there ... upside down, His poor, vicious face almost touching the ground. He knows well where hes been, Dont let him in !!! He claimed twelvethousand crucifixes transformed into distorted sombre trees, Blood ran down their scarred trunks, Gushed slowly dripping out of the leaves. The offering gathered in a chalice, all golden, Held by the dirty hands of a blackbearded man, His face sheer spitefulness. He knows well where hes been So, dont let him, dont let him in ... Dont let him in !!!
slice, twelvethousand, blackbearded, nail, spitefulness