The Temple (From Where Gentle Voices Utter Words of Scorn to the Mob With Forever Closed Eyes)
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The Temple (From Where Gentle Voices Utter Words of Scorn to the Mob With Forever Closed Eyes) 歌词

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Behold the temple of frozen rain and a wintry preference Where the "Self" indulges in impious elegance There I sculpt the river of imagination Beyond difference, at the highest degree of sensation You will bow so low that you shall never rise from the endless snow Where your bleak eyes decay and you stand alone at the bay As I transcend opposites and observe your fall Most sensual, your corpses hanging on the temple wall How their narrow views amuse me Oh "I", let their fear amuse thee Their mouths shall stay silent For the temple does not tolerate a blind argument So let´s shed a tear For my vision is clear Far at the periphery of my thought Where most exquisite sights are caught

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