Luyện nghe bài hát Fantasizing To The Third Of The Pagan Vision

(Quoth the Sky, Act II)

I stood my reflection
With a adherent
Waiting the cross for a purpose
To drink my tepid blood from the
Impart thou in the of Scourge
And cleft through the veil of the
is to live
To the and the highest is unjust

to the third of my gentile sight
In the gate of the mind
And with turbulence called I

The of the blind Shabbathai
For thee I worshipped the Stars
I cried, you perpetually died
...On top of Black of thy Septentrio
of an aged Tetragrammaton
With stains, a lucid of disgrace
joyful, elated Endeavour
O lilywhite
as a thicket of thorns
With a collar of gold for thy
A bow for thy horns
O goat
You ma Paganal dreams erroneous