Atavism lyrics

Descending and turning A shadow with soles in his hand Standing alone by the garden I hear his command Swaying blindly, under a moribund sun Strangely the pain has only begun Painlessly crossing the yard-lines, the ball in his hand Piles of bodies dispatched in the grass and the sand Helmets crashing, under the weight of the one Vaguely aware the pain has begun Out of the window the sirens of slaughter begin Whistling alone in the silence I hear them come in Fading, blinded, foraging under the leaves Strangely the pain is finally relieved