The Blue Gates Of Death

Lyrics for The Blue Gates Of Death

Before and beyond the blue gates of death Oh only two birds they soar through the sky Take two blackbirds crossformed in poppy fields And sprung in the springtime in Europe's fertile years When the rain was immaculate not scarred and twisted And where in the heart that beats in man And where in the soul that beats in this heart Are the pastures of the little shining man? He has reached the blue gates of death He is at the blue gates of death Of death... the blue gates of death She tells me she loves me but he always beckons Through the forests of green, though the night slides in His glass in hand Slumps over the table and Birch she sits there scowling Another eagle darkens the stage And over the fissures the moss is everywhere And the ships blackblue and darkening statues point to the sky Birth Earth And dawn The blue gates of death We have reached the blue gates of death We are at the blue gates of death And her eyes horizontal Like her heart, like her secret There is no pain for me to feel "Do not touch this pain of mine" She says "it is all darkened fear" And London Bridge has fallen down My mother drinks Victoria gin Eating gingerbread men Two ciphers straddle the stage Reclaim, declaim and decant Their moves are pointless Their promises echo through the cinema They have reached the blue gates of death They are at the blue gates of death They shall go through the blue gates of death And his name is carved in stone But the time has soaked it away Where the rain runs to the sea It takes the moisture from this world Where riverruns to the sea It drags ships to the courses Where the blue is to green And the waves lap at the night All have reached the blue gates of death It has come to it's end at the blue gates At the blue gates of the threshold Of threshold of blue gates And love is the law is written in notebooks The desert ships and the sand The desert blossom grows And blows in the wind he wails And sand is all everything He waits in the corner watching He waits in the quarter Behind the roses fields and pastures Where madness is the norm And laughing is the wine Full garlands hang on the head of porcupine god Training tresses and vines Ripping and raving World without end And purple is the colour Scarlet is the dress Round about his blues