LYRIC

None speak of the pious in history
Notre Dame conquered by a poète maudit
Beyond France's gendarmes and butchery
Rose my twin-eyed concrete Babel staring
Down the gods
Stir their hearts;
Men applaud
Crime as art

Violent birth
Pile driver lances
Pierce the earth
And bleed the clouds
(Walk on its veins)

Steel and glass
The propance dancers
Wrap this mass
In burning shrouds
(Forest of cranes.)

New York, I adopt this child

Flight over the ocean
Mind as vine to stone
On a tower
Sleight of foot in motion
Twined around a throne
I count and count the hours

Alea jacta est

Wire
A workman's attire
The years we conspired
Finally bear fruit
This August
Mourn
A nation forlorn
Its emperor shorn
Of august suit
By modest blades

As I walk he fades

Crate
500 pound weight
Whisked up the freight
To south level
One zero
Four
The nightwatchman's snore
My skull on the floor
Sold out the Devil
For heroes'
Deeds

To the skies I lead
Bowman draws the string
Ropes and cable…
… Cling stowaway to the arrow's flight;
At missile's point, North and South unite
Cordina, clamp, Cavaletti, knot…
At backbreaking dawn, the wires pull taut

Rope still sways
Winds will rage
Heart ablaze
I wage war
On fate
Fear devoid
Lungs inflate
Tempt the void:

The first step

Le néant
Vos chants, vos cris, je les entends
A chaque pas, les nuages s'adoucissent
Je danse. Elégance
Je me permets un sourire
Si je meurs, quelle belle mort!
Avec les dieux à mes pieds

I wave, I sit, I rest, I dream

Speak to birds
Words of calm
Psalms of faith
Swathe no auspice
Wreaked by siren howls

Uproar from the lowland
The rattle of lawmen's chains
The lords of the Northland
Cast me to the plains
A mortal man
The last step

Nona, spin your thread
Join it to the Sun
So I may walk
Morta, rouse your dead
Tell them of the sun
For with me they walk

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