Borellus Lyrics - Him

Essential Salts of animals may 

Be so prepared and preserved 

That an ingenious man 

May have the whole Ark of Noah in his own 

Study and raise the fine shape of an animal 

Out of its ashes at his pleasure 

Unhappy is he to whom the memories of childhood 

Bring only fear and sadness 

Old years of play 

Wretched is he who looks back upon lone hours 

In vast and dismal chambers 

With brown hangings 

And maddening rows of antique books 

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Watch them in twilight groves 

Oh in twilight groves 

Oh in twilight groves 

By method from the essential salts of humane dust 

A philosopher may call up the shape of any dead ancestor 

From the dust where into his body has been 

Incinerated incinerated incinerated 

You're under pressure baby 

Christ has returned he's returning 

In every new born child 

In every new born child 

You're under pressure baby 

Christ has returned he's returning 

In every new born child 

In every new born child 

In every new born child 

Photos 

Essential Salts of animals may 

Be so prepared and preserved 

That an ingenious man 

May have the whole Ark of Noah in his own 

Study and raise the fine shape of an animal 

Out of its ashes at his pleasure 

You're under pressure baby 

Christ has returned, he's returning 

In every new born child 

In every new born child 

You're under pressure baby 

Christ has returned, he's returning 

In every new born child 

In every new born child