Believers Of The Unpure

Kiss the past

Waiting for the eyes
Brimstone jewellery surrounds your face
Fire burns my soul
White medieval women
Make an exhibition of flesh
Under black parasols

And all the leather, furs, flowers and lust
This is where we belong
This is where we belong

Kiss the past

The minstrels perform
Here children have freedom of desire
Rose masquerade
The old man's glass face
Eyes move still alive, tears cascade
His last parade

And all the leather, furs, flowers and lust
This is where we belong
This is where we belong

Kiss the past
Kiss the past
Kiss the past
Kiss the past
Kiss the past
Kiss the past
Kiss the past
Kiss the past

And all the leather, furs, flowers and lust
This is where we belong
This is where we belong

Unworthy captives with palms sweat wet

Kiss the past
This is where we belong
Believers of the unpure
Kiss the past
This is where we belong
Believers of the unpure
Kiss the past
This is where we belong