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Him - Borellus Lyrics

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 its ashes at his pleasure aaah aaah aaah aaaaaaaah
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 whereinto his body has been incinerated
Incinerated, incinerated
You're under pressure,baby
Christ has returned, he's returning
In every newborn child
In every newborn child
You're under pressure,baby
Christ has returned, he's returning
In every newborn child
In every newborn child
In every newborn 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 its ashes at his pleasure
You're under pressure,baby
Christ has returned, he's returning
In every newborn child
In every newborn child
You're under pressure,baby
Christ has returned, he's returning
In every newborn child
In every newborn child