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Цитата группы

"Я художник, который работает аккуратно и спокойно дома, а выход на сцену для меня ужасающ, так что я мог бы легко прожить без неё"

Аарон Стейнторп

The Blue Lotus

Under the darkened, Ancient oak

Gentle in the nights breeze

I stop and stare, rest a while

With hands upon my knees

Through jades leaves, bush and scrub

I spy my journeys end

Black it looms, silent gloom

The castle called Avend

On I trot, past forest eyes

Past horrors of the night

Through the dark, I see a sign

A gently glowing light

Upon reaching the castle I ascend the ivy

Towards the golden window

My heart pounds and my breath is rushed

As I fight both brick and branch

The ledge is mine and over I sweep

Silent like the falling snow

Quiet, I slip across the polished floow

Tonight, I will dine with chance

The Blue Lotus, a legend, I thought a myth

Old poems and stories gone

A beauty of unimaginable lust

Both men's hearts, and Gods, were won

Skin like milk, an angels face

They say her smile could kill

Her hair the blackest of all black

Stories I thought though, still

So there she lay, sleeping upon the bed

Half covered by fantastic silks

Her breast I see, moves with her dreams

A sight I will always recall

A single candle that showed me the way

Through forest, river and hills

Glows upon that lovely skin

Shadows dancing around the walls

Closer I creep, toward my prize

The Blue Lotus lies before me

Her lips are full, red as blood

Moist as they invite me

Stoop I did to kiss those lips

In that glowing room

When suddenly, she did awake,

Her eyes filled with doom

From silks, her hands wer round my neck

Escape there was no hope

A brief flash of teeth is all that I saw

And gone was my throat

Her bloodlust deep, she swallowed me

Red was all I saw

She drank her fill and watched me fall

Gently to the floor

A league away my death is found

By locals who tend this land

Who lay me down in shallow earth

A single Lotus placed in my hand.

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