Текст: Imaad Wasif. Priestess.

Easter is everywhere
a memory enchanting time
all these rooms, all these walls
hanging pictures for the blind

Blown across, the plains in my glass
drain ??? ??? masters through ??? reign

Last year in ??? ???
solemn processions of the husband
you emerged in pornagraphic heat
from a poem of obsession

Learn to accept how far we are from perfect
slowly undress the priestess

The essence of a gold flower
the essence of a gold flower
flower...

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