Tanks Of Flies Songtext - Current 93

Tanks Of Flies - Current 93

I had the verbal touch
The silver sliver of nexus
Carved from the bloody water
First-poured
Form
drowning

Pulling down the moons and suns
From the thighs of the queen
Of grace and grinding
The bump, the bribe, the breasts
Made me slyly arise
In
clouds
of candy
Tanks of flies

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