From this oblique matrix He watches the plains of life Silent are now the spirits And the things have lost their voice. The first born man knows and suffers. The dead are walking his heart with them. The memory of darkness Burns again Making him the living witness Of a collapsing universe. The first born man knows and suffers The dead are walking With hands like knives With hands like knives With hands like knives
suffers, knife, oblique, walking, hand