Lyrics:
All That Is Solid Melts Into Air (Words and Music by Peter Watts © 2022)
The world we are wedded to is tattered and torn
Courting the scorn
was born,
And laid within a manger,
Upon this blessed morn;
That which His Mother Mary,
Did nothing take in scorn.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
was born,
And laid within a manger,
Upon this blessed morn;
That which His Mother Mary,
Did nothing take in scorn.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
And laid within a manger upon this blessed morn
The which His mother Mary did nothing take in scorn
O tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy
O
the Horns
The beast awakens
Never to perish
Thou forsaken
By something hellish
Driven by the fires
That forever scorn the damned
Killing millions
On demand
By
chalice
Five pointed star
Break the seventh seal
Worship the goat
Bring forth destruction
Satanic scorn
Bring forth the abyss
Satanic scorn
Raped by
I'm always light hearted and easy
Not a care in this world have I
Because I am loved by an Ollie
And I couldn't forget if I try
She lives far away
And laid within a manger upon this
blessed morn;
The which His mother Mary did nothing take
in scorn
O tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy
O tidings
Deep in my dreams,
I saw you close by my side.
And the words you said to me,
made me reel down
Hush a bye my baby slumber time is coming soon
Rest your head on mommie's breast while daddy hums a tune
Are the old folks were humming the banjos
winds of days gone by
I often ask myself and wonder why
It's gone
Oh take me back again
Take me back one more time, Spanish Rose.
In slumber you
To see what lies beyond our sight
The secrets robed in blackest night
The things we dream but never see
Caged and blinded by the Beast
From
creating
Love child, never meant to be (wait, wait, won't you wait now, hold on)
Love child, (scorn by) society
Love child, always second best
Love
born
And laid within a manger
Upon this blessed morn
The which His Mother Mary
Did nothing take in scorn
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort
within a manger
Upon this blessed morn
The which His Mother Mary
Did nothing take in scorn
O tidings of comfort and joy comfort and joy
O tidings
Or painful to his slumbers; easy, sweet
And as a purling stream, thou son of night
Pass by his troubled senses; sing his pain
Like hollow murmuring wind,
wretched, left forlorn
And worse than murder'd by thy scorn
(Exit under guard)
winds of days gone by
I often ask myself and wonder why
It's gone
Oh take me back again
Take me back one more time, Spanish Rose.
In slumber you
a load (he's there)
That's when Jesus is a comforter (to my soul)
Well you may scorn me turn your back on me
God's got his arms wrapped all around me
consume until we're all gone
Without a struggle we cannot evolve
No fearsome threat to test our resolve
Unfold into slumber, sedated and weak
Broken by
by proud Saxon and Tory
Where the soil is sanctified by the blood of each true man
Where they died satisfied that their enemies they
Wouldn't run
Happy lost in your hair
And the cold side of the pillow.
Your hills and valleys,
Are mapped by my intrepid fingers,
And in a naked slumber, I dream
And great was her scorn
I offered to take her to Donnybrook Fair
And to buy her fine ribbons to tie up her hair
I offered to marry and to stay by her
counting your blessings
I think about a nursery and I picture curly heads
And one by one I count them as they slumber in their beds
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