I bled on a pivotal stretch Like a clockwork Christ Bears sore stigmata, bored And as I threw Job, I drove Myself to a martyred wretch To see if I drew pity Or pretty litanies from the Lord So the plot sickened With the coming of days Ill millennia thickened With the claret I sprayed And though they saw red I left a dirty white stain A splintered know in the grain On Eden's marital aid So glad for the madness I walked the walls naked to the moon In Sodom and Babylon And through rich who*es and corridors Of the Vatican I led a sordid Borgia on I read the Urilia text So that mortals wormed As livebait for the dead And as I broke hope, I choked Another pope with manna peel Dictating to DeSade In the dark entrails of the Bastille And as he wrote, I smote A royal blow to the heads of France And in the sheen of guillotines I saw others, fallen, dance I was an incurable Necromantic old fool A phagadaena that crawled Drooling over the past A rabid wolf in shawl A razor's edge to the rule That the stars overall Were never destined to last So glad for the madness I furnaced dreams, a poet, for of sleep Turning sermons with the smell On Witchfinder fingers Where bad memories lingered Burning, as when Dante Was freed to map Hell I sired schemes and the means To catch sight of the seams And the vagaries inbetween... And midst the lips and the curls Of this c*nt of a world In glimpses I would see A nymph with eyes for me Eyes of fire that set all life aflame Lights that surpa**ed art In sight, that no intense device of pain Could prise their secrets from my heart I knew not her name Though her kiss was the same Without a whisper of shame As either Virtue or Sin's And pressed to Her curve I felt my destiny swerve From damnation reserved To a permanent grin... So glad for the madness