They Return To Their Earth (Out-takes from the Thunder Perfect Mind sessions)

When serpents come

They cover the Christ thorn

Two heads and cock heads

Serpents feet are the motion

Lidded eyes and smudged reality

Everything has two faces

One is earthly without true form

The other blackened and blackening

Mother is in the fields

Father's in the fields

You know well its tortured form

It's locked within a particular place

It's locked within a particular form

It's jailed by a falling light

With angles, shapes and size

It's held by two wood

It's held by three place

It's a name that has no name

Mother is in the fields

Father's in the fields

It's a form creating formless

Formless creating form

Oh four towers read them backwards

Do not spell their sound

Do not move to their lies

Speak the words and they

Create the universe and

They destroy all universe

Mother is in the fields

Father's in the fields

Heavy lidded eyes do not mask the pain

They shade us from the burning light

Listen, one face, one form, one truth

I see it through the staining glass

I see it fractured in the world

This is not true, it's appearance only

Mother is in the fields

Father's in the fields

An eagle flies his bloody face

Behind bloody claw, behind bloody cause

His pain is blackened rain

His rain is Roman cyan pain

It is not finished, it happens now

Matchstick men in a matchstick world

Match the brick with the sickle

Make the sickle slice the corn

Time stops when he was thirty-three

And mother is in the fields

Father is in the fields

Time stops when I'm thirty

Time stops then and time stops there

Then is now, why do we not see it

Time stops, time breaks, time holds