I bled on a pivotal stretch Bears sore stigmata, bored
And as I threw Job, I drove Myself to a martyred wretch Or pretty litanies from the Lord
With the claret I sprayed I left a dirty white stain A splintered knot in the grain
So glad for the madness (2x)
I walked the walls naked to the moon And through rich whores and corridors
And as I broke hope, I choked Another Pope with manna peel In the dark entrails of the Bastille A royal blow to the heads of France And in the sheen of guillotines I saw others, fallen, dance
A phagadaena that crawled A razor's edge to the rule Were never destined to last
So glad for the madness (2x)
I furnaced dreams, a poet, foe of sleep Turning sermons with the smell Where bad memories lingered
I sired schemes and the means To catch sight of the seams And the vagaries inbetween...
And midst the lips and the curls
Eyes of fire that set all life aflame Lights that surpassed art In sight , that no intense device of pain Could prise their secrets from my heart
Though her kiss was the same Without a whisper of shame As either Virtue or Sin's
So glad for the madness (2x)