All the things, the round, the square and the slow 
Pointing down to a corner far below 
And the light with darkness of memories 
I see it bend, coiling in ecstasy 
The gathering of mass (or the tainted ones) 
Unite with a star, in horizons I watch it pass 
I feel the beating and I feel the beat 
Bodies are battered, swarming in heat 
Centurions of the lowest class 
Swaying back and forth with the grass 
Then once again we come 
Then once again we come through the sun