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The Golden Face

Phlegethon

Revel in crystal, my pearling irony
In search of thought from emerging melody
The face in gold shining on the ground
My voice so loud will be heard from the crowd

Eyes in the snow, as I know, I hear the Scandinavian song
It is time to look through my polished surface of life
These marks full of numbers going into the lungs
Of time, no more shall poetry defy

Fond perversions in solitude in Oriental blasphemy
Neither of them shall satisfy this dramatic disbelief
Lower level of miracles in an odorous monument
Colours your innate misapprehension you're recondite interment

Mothers through the nemesis
Golden eyes, my windy mist

Scandalous seasons hurt by the retold misery
Perfectly coloured hunger of my inner monolith

LEAD: NÄIN VEDET OLIN VEDET

Spellbound riddles communicate
Asperse and drown the gate
Unburned passion on an empty chair
I am above my hair

Frozen by hearing the ardent comedy
Emotions are mournful but full of sympathy
Pleasant shall be the profuse slavery
Under their fragnant book of empathy

Oaks in your sight reminisce the final horde of mine
Innocence in offence, the helpers will burn your
Lunar eyes, and my might shall be taken to the Nile
Guarded by a pale person, I'll leave the house I'll hide

The fallen embryo of hypnosis
Shall symbolize my symphony
Normal monks shall carve the ink
Speak quietly and meditate

Feelings behind the pouring god
Disposable history
Rumours for my scarlet tear
You'll be here to integrate

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