Letras de December 1971

I am the same
I am Æon
Before the prion
And the iron

The Æon
And the ink
The hygiene
And the stink
The time and kink
Of the incense planet
And the clock
And the dock
And the baying
Of the merchants

Three or four
Three or four
Of thy grain
Made me the star
That we wish
Had not been known
Or drawn to us

Precious Romans
Face or fake in jade
I am Sion
Or Æon, I forget
The lord of the groves
Of olives and oranges
And the dead tribes
Of the central scribal verse
The tablets of stone and worry
Thou shalt have no no no nothing

Bald storm
Put yourselves on our thrones
The twelve, the sixty or the blind

I thought of her just now
She is there naked like the water
I cannot touch the punch of her lips
I cannot dare to touch lip or skin or fold
I gave gold to buy much less
And gave more
And nothing stayed
But the storm′s proud parade around the screen
I will myrrh or myth or memorise her
Aforeward in the Roman dream dust

A room for one
A room for one
Place so much on her or hers
That sand-scattered moon of the valley's claiming
The peacock and owl behind me
Every grace was fresh
But I felt the lash of gospel or ego
I could no longer divide Caesar from the trance or twilight

There is Mum and Dad and I am glad to be back and young
In December 1971
With the storm so far in front of me
And the cell swelling with waves and shards
On each of the brick is the crack and the cricket
The slick watchmen watch birds watch TV

And the Satan vans
And the word I heard from the birds on fire was
Æon makes nonsense or sing omega

Bald storm
Bald storm