Flesh

You have to kill and live at will
You have to live but it's nice to kill
Grasping, tearing, hanging on the flesh
Feeling all its mystery
Sweetness follows the whip of lash

Or living in death or dying alive
Tearing the flesh from the other side
Raising it up with a trembling arm
Holding it high with a psalm to the sky
Will never cry out: 'Sacrifice me!'

Or sobbing in pain as the tiniest being
Roaring flesh, can't stand up seeing
Crawling along in a crimson mass
Responding to pain with deadly screaming
And my own blood's sick of me

Or with handcuffs, free in a cage
Would brand the flesh with burning rage
Solid rock would crush his limbs
If his weak body dared to face
But we're nothing els but feeble flesh

He's scared of life
His earthly dust is afraid to die
When his walls are
Washed by his filth
He learns to fear