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When funeral procession takes all from the grave
This procession march jubilant
Long gilded road
Our one guiding light
Now piercing this terminal mist
Lead us on

Our drums beat so steady and strong
to remember before the horror spreads
It's not the promises, the words they've said
It's the procession of the dead
The long procession of dead pilgrims growled me out 
The whole story of what happened in these dreary swamps

And when the blurred vision had weathered
The apparitions tango to the sound of their heels tapping.
A procession of prosthetic limbs and mannequins.
They're all perfect models
face down 
Let those days pass 
In sorrowful procession 
Among leafless groves 
May a leaf unfold 
I cry with rage 
To be remembered with pity
Macabre, erotica, passion 
Even in death, beauty is with you 

I extol you with loud praise 
You will grace my procession 
Why shouldn't I indulge 
Her mystery never fades 
We have princess grace 
Her supermarket face 
Why do we need you? 
You broke the rules 

The procession was in
the hill
In an ordered procession of desperate will
It hurts just the way it hurts today
Those moments come, then recede away
Better to accept what you

Swift and cunning
Striking down the opposition
Stand and fight
Resist its might and be erased

Rolling forward, like thunder for glory
at the funeral
Eighth or ninth in the procession
Now it ain't all that unusual
To lose a month or two to depression
In desperate need of some medical attention
Open life beneath
Her glory stains the hearse
Procession watch the rain
Mourns the opposite birth
For the wind hopes to die
Far away from home
The promise of adventure


The funeral procession passes
Yes, I'm really twenty-one
People expect great things of me
The man of the year whose
A day like no other the fullness of the sounds like sun no other day no other day and steal a way at the procession have they said one nice thing in
river is night 
night is within me 
and I am here in your arms 
drawn in 
by this massive flow of violence 
drawn down 
in this procession of mud
A little punctured, a little heartbroken,
But not forever and not for long.

In New York, the vagabonds have fled
To your dusty wings.
to haunt you
Taunting all your earthly days.
Satyrs vaunt
Cavorting to the reel Cernunnos plays.
I head our wild procession
(every beast from man
Raise our hands in anticipation
Conquest procession participation

When sweat lies and burns the eyes
Fry the river dries
Sunburn-orama drama
of my road
Bury me deep in the path that I wander
To blind us they stand - together alone

We are the dome for processions at dawn
We wear
Passive resistance 
Believed the lies I can't repeat this procession of hatred 

Passive resistance 
Passive resistance

La plus belle see'est qu'on appelle le Fête Dieu

Jour de l'an, jour des rois

Jour de Pâques, jour de joie

Jour de la Pentecôte avec ses langues
I was staring through the stained glass
Into the procession of a black mass
Saw how subject at the altar wants their life back
The view from here
a new day dawning. 
Now the princess is their everything. 
A procession to the chambers where they kiss their fathers 
Can you hear the angel
come greet me in his dawning,
He holds the seed of life within his aged hands.
And, in the sky, a vast procession streaming,
Royal banners held aloft

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