Paroles: Babylon Whores. Cold Heaven. Metatron.

Given to crescent moon / Chaldean echoes of spectral gloom / Like a pen pal of
the gods / No horns no reply

Flowers of sorcery / Like pearls before the swine / Defying space and time /
Sez the pineal gland of mine

Like,

Given to dreaming witches' lie / It's sweet to close your weary eyes / Given
to pentacles and more / Drunk with the blood of the whore

Gimme some Metatron / Damn my immortal soul / But show me something that
I don't know / Gimme some Metatron

Given to waning moon / Septuagint whispers of impending doom / Cautes and
Cautopates / A shit load of bad ass deities / Wore out my shovel / Burying
monsters where they popped up / And it's OK / Doesn't matter anyway

For Babalon above / For Babalon below

Gimme some Metatron