[Lyric] To Walk at the Hands of a Dial (Latitude Egress)

Six came marching down the aisles
Solid soles asound forbear
Three were slinging stones, a few of which did strike
And three had other sights in mind

I sketch unchained as six have redescended
To their momentary graves
And did they not herald with fire and drums before?
The wounds no dial may cure

Afloat in a neurotic pool of gin and cheapest scents
I took what the steady minds in dreams had treasured
Until my lips were stuck to the moistened tilеs
And fingers, but scraping from the cracks, the bittеr nectar

I still hear the six, mumbled moans that fade
And I knew they spoke of time
A master casting blasts of bliss, oblivion, essence, magic, healing
Healing the scars of lessons
For no remainder to be seen!