Bacchanalia Lyrics

Wringing of bodies, rang of lurid
Glade of swamp extent vast and degraded here
Worshiper's mass motion, left to right
Deeper fleur-de-lys-soaked institution
Unfamiliar
Chill the listener drain the blister
A vacated Hypnos
Endless bacchanalia

Creeping older fetishism laggard
Of New Orleans horde de rigueur for mention
Monday's repetition of Sunday's
Is more easily planned than it is performed
Born familiar
Chilled distiller
Follow it wrecked en masse
Passing the glass, slaking the mass
A vacated Hypnos
Endless bacchanalia

Falling ruin zenith poison
Stooping at each doorway's quasi customs
Knocked-off feet cult-mull degenerate
Dread the needed gloom under one domed-roof
Unfamiliar
Chill the blister
Drain the listener
Born familiar
Chilled distiller
Passing the glass, slaking the mass
A vacated Hypnos
Endless bacchanalia

There is an ocean waiting
Amber wind blows
And the wind blows
Cry me a grave