Current 93

And when I saw the little children sing
Their mouths were red and sad (their lipsticksealèd smiles)
And in their minds they hold and hope some sign
(Some hope)
The gaudy sequinned dragging banner of
The Inmost Light
Around my eyes the sewers spew and laugh
The fallenflower gazes at me reaped
The crippled cuckoo falls brokenwing
And turns around to me and brokenbeak
grins from its head
"Thus so: no fear: thus so: It has arrived:
The Inmost Light"
And if I turn my head for shame
And see my lovers' rivers burst and folding
there
I'll cross my eyes and close my heart
And whisper to her womb
"Greatbloodgreatsilencemymotherthemysteryofall
Nothingmaygrasptheenoonemaygraspthee
Letmeholdtheenowohcomeohcomeatlast
TheInmostLight"
OhGod I trail my hands up to my eyes
Up to my eyes up to my eyes up to my eyes
And say "if only then my Light" -
And "if only if only if:
I had not despised
The Inmost Light"
And so I kneel at bluegateblackmouthdeath
And offer as my feeble explanation: "I
thought so much was left and so much
time to praise and call The Inmost Light")
And, I suppose, fullhalf and more of these
are dreams
Some broken code of morals rising after I
had touched
Her very pith and marrow - oh! her Inmost
Light
If I could scatter children
If I could scatter children
And while I gaze and count my coins
(After Your godgoldglow they're dead; the
head is dead and lead)
I see and feel the hiding glow blaze behind
You; The Inmost Light
And if Your lips are taut
Don't move Your teeth to speak
The lines will start to fall
And pull the structure of Your world then all
apart
And thus you see You'll call The Inmost
Night
(It wispered to me and laughed and said
You lied and shamed
The Inmost Light)
And if You recall I bent yewlike and roared
You did not see the cloudburst wind dead
towards You
Of The Inmost Light
Our hands tumble towards the skies
To block visions of The Inmost Light
And if I pointless arch
And spit whitenothings at the sky
Oh Bigboys - check it out: too fucking late
(The children move through town
And skip tornskirted and roll the hoop into
the arms
Of Inmost Light)
Sheer, char, shrift, and sharp
Christ is risen: You may creep to the Cross
too late
But it's much too late to welcome
The Inmost Light
Branch, sallow, willow and yew
And trees notso gay no more
So falling faster and faster we fall
Nearer cataclysm
Or salvation
Or nothing - how terrible
If we are snuffed out, with just the
momentary mark of smoke
To array our passing
So we stand, milky in moonlight
(Is this all there is?)
(Is this all there is?)
(Is this all there is?)
Our eyes so fixed
That the darkness surrounds us
Unnoticed
And we are drowned by the loss of light
Unnoticed
Is this all there is my friends?
Is this all there is?
(Goodnight goodnight The Inmost Light)
Westron wynde when wyll thow blow?
The smalle rayne downe can rayne can rayne.
Cryst! Yf my love were in my armys,
And I yn my bed a gayne
Will You wait for me there
By the dead clock?
No more dying
One red bird
Will You meet me there?
Before I sputter out?
Dragonflies and mayflies
Hovering candles
As alabaster guardians for me
If you open that door
All hell floods out
But quietly, drably
The colour of
The smell of
The texture of
The choke of
Dust