A New Hedonism

Every impulse we try to strangle
Broods in the mind and poisons us
Soul grows sick with longing
For the things it has forbidden itself

We degenerate into hideous puppets
Haunted by memories
Of passions of which we were
Too much afraid

The birds that were singing in dew-filled gardens
Seem to be telling the flowers about her
What the worm was too the corpse
His sin would be to the painted image

So much has been surrendered
And too such little purpose
Extraordinary absence
Became notorious

Poisoned by the book

We degenerate into hideous puppets
Haunted by memories
Of passions of which we were
Too much afraid



Credits
Writer(s): Truitt Eglin
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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