Shelter from the Sand (исполнитель: Akercocke)
Nothing could save the Baptist Not cross, nor altar, nor [bad word] Old time lays waste the spirit Without condoning or condemning [bad word] sense of purpose For those eyes to see? this town is afraid of me? Walking freely among the enemy The Baptists lack of inner capacity Philosophical sagacity It is not seen as a defect But as a sign of strength sign of strength? I shall lay my hands upon you feel my hands touch you? As if the eyes of the [bad word] open Here is the servant In whom my soul delights Ancient sadness of desert sands An unending hymn of praise To the Sanhedring of Sheol Everything is real Everything dies? I shall lay my hands upon you feel my hands touch, touching you?? Here's the one in who my soul delights Close enough to touch yet out of reach Everything is real Everything dies? Close enough to touch you??.