To my dark and profane fiend, I kneel and beg of thee
"Spare me from more lies, art thou God's grudge?"
"If thou hast brought to life, this bellowing machine
To whom do I kneel? Who is my judge?"
Tonight at last, this will end, for I want to cleanse this bloodstain
Art thou God's grudge?
And I avow I'll repent to You, and mount the stairs again
To the spires
Deep in Maggie's stone foundation
Awaits a spiral staircase that leads to salvation
Bronzen beasts, growing rampant
Seal this March's eve
Deafening, rumbling
As I approach the bourdon bell
Atop the belfry, the mechanical pounding summits in suspense
As the county fair's kaleidoscopic lights bleed into the Thames
A violent brawl stirs the night upon the Westminster Bridge below
Kneeling under the spires
My catharsis is brought by another carrion crow
I feared the blame
"Brother mine
No longer will I let you dwell alone in the shadow of Death
I beg of thee
Absolve me, as I consecrate to you my final breath"
I bow in shame
And at the last singing echoes of the witch's hour bell
Through the sudden silence
An eerily familiar tune petrifies my every cell
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