No bells ring.
No birds sing.
Sabbath ****** sabbath.
I was your altar, a masquerade to surrender,
to tarnished pity and repo splendour,
to sick on the adventure of a holy matador,
blind to submission, one more kiss to caress,
the void that belief will conquer, no prisoner of faith
that will serenade past again and again, torture laughter
and warm, warm rain.