Babalon A.D. (So Glad for the Madness)

I bled on a pivotal stretch
 Like a clockwork, Christ bears sore stigmata (bored)
 And as I threw Job, I drove myself to a martyred wretch
 To see if I drew pity or pretty litanies from the Lord
 So the plot sickened with the coming of days
 Ill millennia thickened with the claret I sprayed
 And though they saw red, I left a dirty white stain
 A splintered knot in the grain on Eden's marital aid
 So glad for the madness
 So glad for the madness
 ♪
 I walked the walls, naked to the moon, in Sodom and Babylon
 And through rich whores and corridors of the Vatican
 I led a sordid Borgia on
 I read the Urilia text
 So that mortals wormed as live bait for the dead
 And as I broke hope, I choked another Pope with manna peel
 Dictating to De Sade in the dark entrails of the Bastille
 And as he wrote, I smote a royal blow to the heads of France
 And in the sheen of guillotines, I saw others, fallen, dance
 ♪
 I was an incurable necromantic old fool
 A phagedaena that crawled, drooling over the past
 A rabid wolf in a shawl, a razor's edge to the rule
 That the stars overall were never destined to last
 So glad for the madness
 So glad for the madness
 ♪
 I furnaced dreams, a poet, foe of sleep
 Turning sermons with the smell
 On witchfinder fingers, where bad memories lingered
 Burning, as when Dante was freed to map hell
 And I sired schemes and the means
 To catch sight of the seams and the vagaries in between
 ♪
 And midst the lips and the curls of this cunt of a world
 In glimpses, I would see a nymph with eyes for
 Me, me, me, me, me, me, me
 Eyes of fire that set all life aflame
 Lights that surpassed art
 In sight, that no intense device of pain
 Could prise their secrets from my heart
 I knew not her name, though her kiss was the same
 Without a whisper of shame as either virtue of sins
 And pressed to her curve, I felt my destiny swerve
 From damnation reserved to a permanent grin
 So glad for the madness
 So glad for the madness
 
 I bled on a pivotal stretch
 Like a clockwork, Christ bears sore stigmata (bored)
 And as I threw Job, I drove myself to a martyred wretch
 To see if I drew pity or pretty litanies from the Lord
 So the plot sickened with the coming of days
 Ill millennia thickened with the claret I sprayed
 And though they saw red, I left a dirty white stain
 A splintered knot in the grain on Eden's marital aid
 So glad for the madness
 So glad for the madness
 ♪
 I walked the walls, naked to the moon, in Sodom and Babylon
 And through rich whores and corridors of the Vatican
 I led a sordid Borgia on
 I read the Urilia text
 So that mortals wormed as live bait for the dead
 And as I broke hope, I choked another Pope with manna peel
 Dictating to De Sade in the dark entrails of the Bastille
 And as he wrote, I smote a royal blow to the heads of France
 And in the sheen of guillotines, I saw others, fallen, dance
 ♪
 I was an incurable necromantic old fool
 A phagedaena that crawled, drooling over the past
 A rabid wolf in a shawl, a razor's edge to the rule
 That the stars overall were never destined to last
 So glad for the madness
 So glad for the madness
 ♪
 I furnaced dreams, a poet, foe of sleep
 Turning sermons with the smell
 On witchfinder fingers, where bad memories lingered
 Burning, as when Dante was freed to map hell
 And I sired schemes and the means
 To catch sight of the seams and the vagaries in between
 ♪
 And midst the lips and the curls of this cunt of a world
 In glimpses, I would see a nymph with eyes for
 Me, me, me, me, me, me, me
 Eyes of fire that set all life aflame
 Lights that surpassed art
 In sight, that no intense device of pain
 Could prise their secrets from my heart
 I knew not her name, though her kiss was the same
 Without a whisper of shame as either virtue of sins
 And pressed to her curve, I felt my destiny swerve
 From damnation reserved to a permanent grin
 So glad for the madness
 So glad for the madness
 
 I bled on a pivotal stretch
 Like a clockwork, Christ bears sore stigmata (bored)
 And as I threw Job, I drove myself to a martyred wretch
 To see if I drew pity or pretty litanies from the Lord
 So the plot sickened with the coming of days
 Ill millennia thickened with the claret I sprayed
 And though they saw red, I left a dirty white stain
 A splintered knot in the grain on Eden's marital aid
 So glad for the madness
 So glad for the madness
 ♪
 I walked the walls, naked to the moon, in Sodom and Babylon
 And through rich whores and corridors of the Vatican
 I led a sordid Borgia on
 I read the Urilia text
 So that mortals wormed as live bait for the dead
 And as I broke hope, I choked another Pope with manna peel
 Dictating to De Sade in the dark entrails of the Bastille
 And as he wrote, I smote a royal blow to the heads of France
 And in the sheen of guillotines, I saw others, fallen, dance
 ♪
 I was an incurable necromantic old fool
 A phagedaena that crawled, drooling over the past
 A rabid wolf in a shawl, a razor's edge to the rule
 That the stars overall were never destined to last
 So glad for the madness
 So glad for the madness
 ♪
 I furnaced dreams, a poet, foe of sleep
 Turning sermons with the smell
 On witchfinder fingers, where bad memories lingered
 Burning, as when Dante was freed to map hell
 And I sired schemes and the means
 To catch sight of the seams and the vagaries in between
 ♪
 And midst the lips and the curls of this cunt of a world
 In glimpses, I would see a nymph with eyes for
 Me, me, me, me, me, me, me
 Eyes of fire that set all life aflame
 Lights that surpassed art
 In sight, that no intense device of pain
 Could prise their secrets from my heart
 I knew not her name, though her kiss was the same
 Without a whisper of shame as either virtue of sins
 And pressed to her curve, I felt my destiny swerve
 From damnation reserved to a permanent grin
 So glad for the madness
 So glad for the madness