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Chaos II
Fling the souls on rains of sulphur
Traverse through the sea of blood
Roaring through nights of glittering ember
Trouble stir in Paradise
Evil nest on threshold of Eden
Chaos rise from the vault of lusts
Siring pandemonium
From the East discontent settles
Furls its wings and raises its head
Discordant voices sing sinister choirs
Of owning and keeping and wanting
Gems worth nought but whispers of desire
Nestled high up on cleft cliffs
Chaos grin and caper, trilling encouraging noises
From the South stirs the power that be
Killing from afar through masquerades
After rubbing and reshaping dark smudges
On tapestry of black, red and gold
Before the coming of the White
Wandering into dream world
Was then not aided by the peyote
The west is won or so they say
They sire greed more than one can stand
Sitting up on iron platform,
Bunched fists towards the sky
Declaring gods are there no more
They are the ones that sit on thrones
Listen to them or you shall die
The North is quietly brilliantly in turmoil
The righteous shoots the clamouring noises
Salutes of old, the iron fists
Live again behind the face of fear
The land turns and the earth quakes
In some obscure town darts rip
Through the growing cribs
Chaos reigns throughout the land
Gossamer threads hold together heads
To calm the tumultuous waters
Voices of poets, orators and bards
Cry out tales of peace and harmony
Beneath these tales chuckling demons
Whisper words of envy and lust, pandemonium
On the soapbox the close-shaven prophet dies
At the temple on the seven hills
The grey robed King, walks away
Chaos dance through the purple sphere
Traverse through the sea of blood
Roaring through nights of glittering ember
Trouble stir in Paradise
Evil nest on threshold of Eden
Chaos rise from the vault of lusts
Siring pandemonium
From the East discontent settles
Furls its wings and raises its head
Discordant voices sing sinister choirs
Of owning and keeping and wanting
Gems worth nought but whispers of desire
Nestled high up on cleft cliffs
Chaos grin and caper, trilling encouraging noises
From the South stirs the power that be
Killing from afar through masquerades
After rubbing and reshaping dark smudges
On tapestry of black, red and gold
Before the coming of the White
Wandering into dream world
Was then not aided by the peyote
The west is won or so they say
They sire greed more than one can stand
Sitting up on iron platform,
Bunched fists towards the sky
Declaring gods are there no more
They are the ones that sit on thrones
Listen to them or you shall die
The North is quietly brilliantly in turmoil
The righteous shoots the clamouring noises
Salutes of old, the iron fists
Live again behind the face of fear
The land turns and the earth quakes
In some obscure town darts rip
Through the growing cribs
Chaos reigns throughout the land
Gossamer threads hold together heads
To calm the tumultuous waters
Voices of poets, orators and bards
Cry out tales of peace and harmony
Beneath these tales chuckling demons
Whisper words of envy and lust, pandemonium
On the soapbox the close-shaven prophet dies
At the temple on the seven hills
The grey robed King, walks away
Chaos dance through the purple sphere
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