Ô, l'ange, l'enfant, là, dans son berceau
Oui, celui-là même qui dort!
Ô, le blanc, le doux sein du Seigneur
Qui donne la vie, et commande la mort…
In the end, who's complaining of inner pain ?
Even if he's not crying, she knows things won't remain the same
Ô, l'étoffe, la plume, Elle approche
Non, pas de mal, elle est celle qui veille
Et qui éteint
In the end, who's complaining of inner pain ?
Even if she's just trying to find a way that proves she's there
Choking the fruit, she reveals the tree but denies the roots
Of a mother nature -not "Mother Nature", not this one-
And as the cries fade she howls inside :
Free my cage, open the Bird
And devour the Queer inside.
In
The Hand
The pillow
The throat
The sigh
The sacred union
And after the last second
Abortion of light
In the guts of the opened bird
Away away
Free my cage open the bird oh free my cage open the bird
Cage above, Cage besides, Cage within
Free my cage open the bird oh free my cage open the
Void…
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