In regards to the meaning of this song:
Before a live performance on the EP Five Stories Falling, Geoff states “It’s about the last time I went to visit my grandmother in Columbus, and I saw that she was dying and it was the last time I was going to see her. It is about realizing how young you are, but how quickly you can go.”
That’s the thing about Geoff and his sublime poetry, you think it’s about one thing, but really it’s about something entirely different. But the lyrics are still universal and omnipresent, ubiquitous, even. So relatable. That’s one thing I love about this band. I also love their live performances, raw energy and Geoff’s beautiful, imperfectly perfect vocals. His voice soothes my aching soul.
Sister midnight comes blaspheming
Screaming in the keys of faith and fear
Unentweining our spines twists me to kneeling...
Spilling like the moonlight on her glistering rear Defiled at heart
In this perfect hell
Under red leaves bleeding
Over sealed chatéau we fell
To demonocracy
Where neither Adam or Eve
Conceived of such iniquites
From pleasure or pain
Or the razor´s edge in between
Thou art my seventh heaven burning
Going down as with the sun...
Writhing like a riverfluids moves a torrent
Bound to pleaseOn denierred knees
In any wicked way
That her whims may warrant I hang on every verb
Every dirty word
InterredIn her pornoglossa... Christlike, whipped and weak
Painted nails driven through the meek
Yet in obituary
My dreams still weep
Of dark blood and fucking thee
Thou art my seventh heaven burning
Going down as with the day
Baring lunar curvature
Like canvas for a lick of pain
Writhing like a viper
Deep inside her Eden
Forbidden to eat
I kiss leylines to her feet
Then baithing wrath
I steal a path
Back to the fruits of her womb Back to the crack of her tomb...
Her roseate sliverQuivers with snuff appeal
The torque of her hips
Lip-syncs me in for the kill
Tongue-tied, tightroped and spread like disease
I drain the cup of this Miss Sire
Her waters into wine for me
Thou art my seventh angel squirming´Neath the forked tongue of the beast
Arching toward the fabled
Like a sculptured nymph seeking base relief
Whilst the world outside
(A wood of suicide)
Would die for this release
Our slow orgasmic fuses greet... By night and by candle
At each other´s throats
In a slick drift of red
Setting god´s teeth on edge
We were as wolves preying inside the fold
Of a slaughtered lamb throw
On a four poster bed... Succulent, Succubus Laid without rest
In the dead of the night
Succulent. Succubus In thy arms
And thy wetness
On glossed lips I taste
Conspiracies, seccrecies, sorceries laced
With thick unguent rum
Black-rayed suns and Autumn
Always in season for our nightfall from grace Gorge upon my seed
Starved Persephone
Succulent. Succubus. Succour me That I might keep
Thee with me in Hades
Succulent. Succubus. Succour me
Screaming in the keys of faith and fear
Unentweining our spines twists me to kneeling...
Spilling like the moonlight on her glistering rear Defiled at heart
In this perfect hell
Under red leaves bleeding
Over sealed chatéau we fell
To demonocracy
Where neither Adam or Eve
Conceived of such iniquites
From pleasure or pain
Or the razor´s edge in between
Thou art my seventh heaven burning
Going down as with the sun...
Writhing like a riverfluids moves a torrent
Bound to pleaseOn denierred knees
In any wicked way
That her whims may warrant I hang on every verb
Every dirty word
InterredIn her pornoglossa... Christlike, whipped and weak
Painted nails driven through the meek
Yet in obituary
My dreams still weep
Of dark blood and fucking thee
Thou art my seventh heaven burning
Going down as with the day
Baring lunar curvature
Like canvas for a lick of pain
Writhing like a viper
Deep inside her Eden
Forbidden to eat
I kiss leylines to her feet
Then baithing wrath
I steal a path
Back to the fruits of her womb Back to the crack of her tomb...
Her roseate sliverQuivers with snuff appeal
The torque of her hips
Lip-syncs me in for the kill
Tongue-tied, tightroped and spread like disease
I drain the cup of this Miss Sire
Her waters into wine for me
Thou art my seventh angel squirming´Neath the forked tongue of the beast
Arching toward the fabled
Like a sculptured nymph seeking base relief
Whilst the world outside
(A wood of suicide)
Would die for this release
Our slow orgasmic fuses greet... By night and by candle
At each other´s throats
In a slick drift of red
Setting god´s teeth on edge
We were as wolves preying inside the fold
Of a slaughtered lamb throw
On a four poster bed... Succulent, Succubus Laid without rest
In the dead of the night
Succulent. Succubus In thy arms
And thy wetness
On glossed lips I taste
Conspiracies, seccrecies, sorceries laced
With thick unguent rum
Black-rayed suns and Autumn
Always in season for our nightfall from grace Gorge upon my seed
Starved Persephone
Succulent. Succubus. Succour me That I might keep
Thee with me in Hades
Succulent. Succubus. Succour me
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you like it dont you.. hmmmm