It's just a temporary slide back in the abyss I should've seen it coming from miles away They've been armed in a sacred cult structure Shielding me of my oblescent dagger There was a purpose upon the horizon A destination Tangible and fragrant And I march to ban you And I march to ban you And I march with a thousand It's not surprising I should find myself flailing Having cross a bridge of certainly Back behind enemy lines with no work till Tuesday I didn't even f** with the temptation Got down with little to do I welcomed old habits like a long lost friend To spite you Ashore 'bout a week in Venice Giving themselves up to the strengths of the menacing darkness The shrieking howls light or grey and feeble The sulky trees sad dropping their knees in defeat The temperature falls There's a big light switch on And from time to time Pharos from the cats