H.I.M. (His Infernal Majesty) - Borellus LYRICS

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



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



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