They returned to their earth



When serpents come

They cover the Christ thorn

Two heads

And cock heads

Serpents feet of emotion

Lidded eyes and smudged reality

Everything has two faces

One is earthly without true form

The other blackened and blackening



And mother is in the fields

Father is 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 true what

It's held in through place

It's an aim that has no name



Mother is in the fields

Father is in the fields



It's a form creating formless

Formless creating form

Oh four towers reaping backwards

Do not spell the sound

Do not move to the lies

Speak the words and they create the universe

And they destroy all universe



Mother sleeps in the fields

And father he reaps in the fields



Heavy-lidded eyes do not mask his pain

They shade us from the burning light

Listen one face one form one truth

I see it through the shading glass

I see it fractured in the world

This is not true

It's appearance only



Mother is in the fields

Father is in the fields



An eagle flies his bloody face

Behind bloody claws behind bloody claws

His pain is blackened rain

His rain is Roman

Sire the pain it is not finished

I happens now

Matchstick man in a matchstick world

Nake the prime slice the sickle

Nake the sickle slice the core

Time stops when he was thirty-three



And mother is in the fields

And father is in the fields



Time stops when i am thirty

Time stops then and time stops there

Then is now

Oh why do we not say it

Time stops time breaks time folds

Time ceases

And pestle grindes the mortar

The mortar turns to dust

The metal turns to rust

Words they fail they fall apart

The corn it dies and is reborn



And mother stays in the fields

And father is in the fields



Blond hair moves in the blond corn

Boyd wears black he talks of death

But all his faces spell out light's on the roof

He's kissing a rose

A blooddrop comes from the heart of her life

Something hangs above there in the skies

Something hovers above his brown hair

Life without us in the background of light

And the birds don't sing

When the curtain snaps

Anita's in Ireland

She's falling over rocks

Stars of the sky stars of the pain

And all stars meet in a falling star

And some make money from weapons' blood

And some make money from fear's blood

And some make money from hunger's blood

And some make money from politics' blood

And some make money from religion's blood

The world falls apart

The world starts to cease



And mother is in the fields

And father has died in the fields