They Return To Their Earth

Intro: x2 When serpents come They cover the Christ Thorn Two heads and cock heads Serpents feed of emotion Lidded eyes and smudged realities Everything has two faces One is earthly without true form The other blackened and blackening Mother is in the fields Father is in the fields You know well its tortured form It's locked within a particular place It's locked within a particular form It's jailed by a falling light With angles shapes and sighs It's held by twowood It's held by threeplace It's a name that has no name Mother is in the fields Father is in the fields It's a form creating formless Formless creating form Oh, four towers read them backwards Do not spell their sound Do not move to their lies Speak the words And they create the universe And They destroy all universe Mother is in the fields Father is in the fields Heavy-lidded eyes Do not mask the pain They shade us from the burning light Listen: one face one form One truth one light I see it through the staining glass I see it fractured in the world (This is not true - It's appearance only) Mother is in the fields Father is in the fields An eagle flies His bloody face Behind bloody claws Behind bloody cause His pain is blackened rain His reign is Romanzion pain It is not finished It happens now Matchstick men in a matchstick world Match the prick with the sickle Make the sickle slice the corn Time stops when he was thirty-three And mother is in the fields Father is in the fields Time stops when I'm thirty Time stops then And time stops there Then is now Why do we not see it? Time stops time breaks time holds Time ceases The pestle grinds the mortar The mortar turns to dust The metal turns to rust Words they fail And they fall apart The Corn it dies And is reborn Mother is in the fields Father is in the fields Blond hair moves in the blond corn Boyd wears black And he talks of death But all his face Spell out light Michael's on the roof He's kissing a Rose Blood drops come From the heart of her life Something hangs Above there in the skies Something hovers Above his brown hair Life la-las In the background of light And the birds don't sing When the curtain snaps Anita's in Ireland She's falling over rocks Scars are for her scarring Scars are for her pain And all her scars Meet in a falling star And some make money from weapons Blood And some make money from hunger Blood And some make money from politics Blood And some make money from fear Blood And some make money from religion It's blood The world falls apart The world starts to cease And mother is in the fields Father has died in the fields