stench Of Judas in the dozens Bouquets for greed and twisted law Handmaidens of a holy war Bring on a thousand roses more I am the thorn I am the thorn
ingredients To see the unseen glitter of life And feel the dirt, grief, anger and strife Cherish the certainly of now It kills you a bit at a time Cradle
basic ingredients To see the unseen glitter of life And feel the dirt, grief, anger and strife Cherish the certainly of now It kills you a bit at a time Cradle
: Stuck in the middle I burrow inside Back to the cradle Away from the burdens Of all my crimes Before it's fatal The past has found me The truth come
And Mary and David smoke dung in the trenches While Zion's behaviour never gets mentioned. The writings On your wall And the blood on the cradle And
! Ancient omen of cursed age hell is coming on the earth Enthrone the dark angel...waiting his arrival born in the cradle of Thorns...drink blood
: From the cradle to the throne My flesh and my bones Is that the way it's supposed to be How the story goes? Ribbons and bows Like a thorn on a rose
greed and twisted law Handmaidens of a holy war Bring on a thousand roses more I am the thorn I am the thorn I am the thorn I am the thorn I am the
most basic ingredients To see the unseen glitter of life And feel the dirt, grief, anger and strife Cherish the certainly of now It kills you a bit at a time Cradle
the graveyard to the cradle All the bells of wonder chime No further complication Here for the queen or for the pawn Night of such revelation The Jew is trembling on the thorn
Life goes on like a carousel Life goes on, a never-ending tale Of love reborn, from the cradle warm A web is spun for every mother's son Life goes on
Stuck in the middle I burrow inside Back to the cradle Away from the burdens Of all my crimes Before it's fatal The past has found me The truth come
the sun And pluck me from my ripeness As passion dies As love itself has failed And unto the earth we thrive Of acorns that gather and cradle to kindest
on the frightened man Bring her sweet peace ere she rests on the breast of God With the nutrnegs and oak-apples of her rosary That counts the praying sand Who cradles
. Fuck. Structural droids; more bangs for the buck But they want a last stegosaurs - thorns in the glove (buck wit' it!) Prehistoric land shark business, cradling
And they have left their mark. The Glamour is shed to reveal The world's ugliness to be all that is real I call upon the thorns of the hedge To join
to cruelty Crushed 'neath the gait of Her dance A whirlwind of fire that swept through the briers Of sweet rose Her thickets of black thorn had grasped
