Suddenly The Living Are Dying Lyrics - Current 93

Nero with his axes 

And piles of skies gurgling 

Behind him 

Diocletian smiles 

And the garlands of meat fall tall 

Who made the windmills? 

And who made the whirlpools? 

Who made the crows? 

And who made the stones? 

Who formed the foam 

From Aleph the Father? 

Behind the flowers 

The mother of the cows 

Dreaming of trees 

In the colouring fields 

My face dissolves in folds 

And I disappear