Lyrics:
Before and beyond the blue gates of deathOh only two birds they soar through the skyTake two blackbirds crossformed in poppy fieldsAnd sprung in the springtime in Europe's fertile yearsWhen the rain was immaculate not scarred and twistedAnd where in the heart that beats in manAnd where in the soul that beats in this heartAre the pastures of the little shining manHe has reached the blue gates of deathHe is at the blue gates of deathOf death... the blue gates of deathShe tells me she loves me but he always beckonsThrough the forests of greenThough the night slides inHis glass in handSlumps over the tableAnd birch she sits there scowlingAnother eagle darkens the stageAnd over the fissuresThe moss everywhereAnd the ships blackblueStatues point to the skyBirthEarthAnd dawnThe blue gates of deathWe have reached the blue gates of deathWe are at the blue gates of deathAnd her eyes horizontalLike her heartLike her secretThere is no pain for me to feel'Do not touch this pain of mine'She says 'it is all darkened fear'And London Bridge has fallen downMy mother drinks Victoria ginEating gingerbread menTwo ciphers straddle the stageReclaim, declaim and decantTheir moves are pointlessTheir promises echo through the cinemaThey have reached the blue gates of deathThey are at the blue gates of deathThey shall go through the blue gates of deathAnd his name is carved in stoneBut the time has soaked it awayWhere the rain runs to the seaIt takes the moisture from this worldWhere riverruns to the seaIt drags ships to the coursesWhere the blue is to greenAnd the waves lap at the nightAll have reached the blue gates of deathIt has come to its end at the blue gatesAt the blue gates of the thresholdOf threshold of blue gatesAnd love is the law is written in notebooksThe desert ships and the sandThe desert blossom growsAnd blows in the wind he wailsAnd sand is all everythingHe waits in the corner watchingHe waits in the quarterBehind the roses fields and pasturesWhere madness is the normAnd laughing is the wineFull garlands hang on the head of porcupine godTraining tresses and vinesRipping and ravingWorld without endAnd purple is the colourScarlet is the dressRound about his blues