Borellus Lyrics - HIM
  Essential Salts of animals may 
Be so prepared and preserved 
That an ingenious man 
May  have the whole Ark of Noah in his own 
Study and raise the fine shape of an animal 
Out of  it's ashes at his pleasure 
 
Unhappy is he to whom the memories of childhood 
Bring only  fear and sadness 
Old years of play 
Wretched is he who looks back upon lone hours 
In  vast and dismal chambers 
With brown hangings 
And maddening rows of antique books 
  
Watch them in twilight groves 
Oh in twilight groves 
Oh in twilight groves 
 
By  method from the essential salts of humane dust 
A philosopher may call up the shape of any dead  ancestor 
From the dust where into his body has been 
Incinerated incinerated incinerated  
 
You're under pressure baby 
Christ has returned he's returning 
In every new born  child 
In every new born child 
 
You're under pressure baby 
Christ has returned he's  returning 
In every new born child 
In every new born child 
In every new born child 
  
Essential Salts of animals may 
Be so prepared and preserved 
That an ingenious man  
May have the whole Ark of Noah in his own 
Study and raise the fine shape of an animal  
Out of it's ashes at his pleasure 
 
You're under pressure baby 
Christ has returned,  he's returning 
In every new born child 
In every new born child 
 
You're under  pressure baby 
Christ has returned, he's returning 
In every new born child 
In every new  born child  
Sunday, March 13, 2011
HIM - Borellus Lyrics
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