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Psychagogue Memory of words, memory of flesh The last remnant memory destroys Ghostly, choral, anachronistic And so they are always returning to us, the dead A vertiginous sense that the past has erupted That the dead are with us An invisible twin, the reverse of a shadow Printed on the eye Stored in the brain Coded over skin Transmitted by blood The lasciviousness of ruin, moving from melancholy to mourning Continuous motion of the spirit Mythopathic moment, the ground possеssed Twin obsessions of death and pеace The god now directs four horses, fire-breathing, day by day through the chamber of heaven Blue of the ether, divine form “As for my own dreams, the ones I lost would make it through. I should’ve known, some things just follow until they take” Twin obsessions of death and peace Aus Songtexte Mania