Metatron – Babylon Whores – letras

Given to crescent moonChaldean echoes of spectral gloomLike a pen pal of the godsNo horns no replyFlowers of sorceryLike pearls before the swineDefying space and timeSez the pineal gland of mineLike,Given to dreaming witches’ lieIt’s sweet to close your weary eyesGiven to pentacles and moreDrunk with the blood of the whoreGimme some MetatronDamn my immortal soulBut show me something that I don’t knowGimme some MetatronGiven to waning moonSeptuagint whispers of impending doomCautes and CautopatesA shit load of bad ass deitiesWore out my shovelBurying monsters where they popped upAnd it’s OKDoesn’t matter anywayFor Babalon aboveFor Babalon below