Testo di Chronicles

And I was younger then The pages white, the ink yet dried Imprisoned images of fate But now the curse has come upon me 'Neath the streetlamps, 'tween the chimes An eerie shade and silence His skin. A blasphemy That I could never comprehend In the mellow, evitable gloom And the serpent of his tongue Where all my chronicles were laid To rest before the writing hand of sorrow To whom I write these chronicles, I do not know The ink now drips of blood The shifting, trickling dance, unfolding The vipers of his tongue now brush the pages That I favored not To touch the ground of this foul freedom Long needles and narcotic sweets Would I dream now of cruelties? I would give everything to stillness! A wolf's cry jewels the cryptic night A maiden's moan of heat and fright And take it all! And burn! I do not want this