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lyrics

Cut the eye with a tight strap,
pouring over until the skin snaps.
To forge the parallel, the white hag
the undercurrent of the object.

Stroke the mold,
make it hard,
keep it warm,
spread it apart.

See yourself through a vast shine
generated from the first life.
A face of color now the cells fry.
The pain of lust for the the last time.

Faint glimmer of the final plight.
The resurrection, the first sign.
The only thought to inhabit you,
is of the shell that you once knew.

While left alone topped with seven sheets of stone,
it rubbed the bottom lightly, it felt until it groaned.
And as it said,
"It's to be stricken to this bed.
The ocean won't devour, it just throbs until it's red."

Ripened with ample size, satisfaction.
Rejoice! This is the fabric of our lives.

Tighten, member engorged, slicing.
Bones, through the steady recourse.
Gap unknown,
between the fear and the stone.
Embrace and approach,
what's been solely ignored.
To be scorned,
is to be wasted and foiled.

credits

from The Cat of Nine Tails, released January 20, 2015

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The Coltranes Temecula, California

THE COLTRANES

RIP
2008 - 2018

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