Believers of the Unpure

Kiss the past Waiting for the eyes Brimstone jewellery surrounds your face Fire burns my soul White medieval women Make an exhibition of flesh Under black parasols And all the leather, furs, flowers and lust This is where we belong This is where we belong Kiss the past The minstrels perform Here children have freedom of desire Rose masquerade The old man's glass face Eyes move still alive, tears cascade His last parade And all the leather, furs, flowers and lust This is where we belong This is where we belong Kiss the past Kiss the past Kiss the past Kiss the past Kiss the past Kiss the past Kiss the past Kiss the past And all the leather, furs, flowers and lust This is where we belong This is where we belong Unworthy captives with palms sweat wet Kiss the past This is where we belong Believers of the unpure Kiss the past This is where we belong Believers of the unpure Kiss the past This is where we belong