Curse Of Saturn

Eighteen reflecting the light of the sun in my eye
Like thoughts of the past that still last 'spite the will of the fly

Art through the sonic supporting the souls of the shy
As black as the onyx that weights us with questions of, "why?"
Our horns now vestigial, we flaunt them in vain
That which was regal beginning to wane
Our passion as strong as the ice keeping form
Of the rings that arch over our sky

We sleep to the thunder, we kiss to the rain
It's only the rhythm still keeping us sane
The sun's a reminder of all that's inane
So thank fuck for the thunder, thank fuck for the rain

Then came the centaur riding in from the south
Stamping the meaning of all I have been into the ground
The hoof is sharp - shatters the scales from my waist down
That now fertilize the fields that give rise to passions abound

Then came the centaur riding in from the south
Stamping the meaning of all I have been into the ground
The hoof is sharp - shatters the scales from my waist down
That now fertilize the fields that give rise to passions abound
Passions abound
Passions abound
Passions abound
Passions abound