: (Instrumental)
: Across a thousand nations And forty-thousand years The teachers and the healers We are the Craft of the Wise The Old World and the New World Remember
back now toward the start You said you thought I'd lost my path And I asked if you still considered love an art And you said, "No, I think it's more a craft
(willcox) I must I must not Homecraft I must I must not Homecraft I must be a bad cook I must not bath Homecraft I must, I must I must wear dirty clothing
And forty-thousand years The teachers and the healers We are the Craft of the Wise
sing Calling occupants of interplanetary craft Calling occupants of interplanetary most extraordinary craft Calling occupants of interplanetary craft Calling occupants of interplanetary most extraordinary craft
you would make the prettiest of brides (oh baby i got you workin from the nine to five) you would make the prettiest rape victim (oh baby i got you workin
exist Sparkle 'why',--and curiosity Watch the child become a man-- Who will live again, inside you One day he will live again The craft, the craft Teachers
Death to planet earth. Human scums infect your mind. Sodomize the earth and let your hatred be your guide! There is nothing more to see, nothing worthy
Once you can see The sun rise from the earth Direction to the sky And once you can feel Rain fall down on your skin Once you have skin (in pain
Burn our earth to waste, scourge Monstrous nuclear waste Cancerous diseases and nuclear bliss Mother nature's creatures entwined and sick Oh, you
Deepest cold to ever grace the land of planet earth, purest cleansing Hellfire to burn the mark of hell (upon man). Hear my call!! Deepest trace to
We are messengers Of future times to die We will show you the way And you need to follow us This is the dawn of your race And the dusk of your enemies
The feeling as if cold, jagged steel was carving your flesh The knowledge of order, chaos and all in between The awareness of a cold world in which
Fire, floods, devastation, murder, rape, obliteration, revolution, hate. Hell, heaven, collision. Beautiful diseases. You deserve all my praise, for
Do you feel the foul stench in the air? Like corpses left to rot in the sun Nearly dead parasites trying desperately to survive It smells like humans
builds upon my Chris-Craft, I'm on a Chris-Craft to your heart Take her up, dive her down, and Blow those ships apart Chris-Craft, climb on the
of you Fly the soul craft on your own Don't miss this soul craft Fly the soul craft one instant time Don't miss the soul craft Look...Look..Look..
