Number of Lyrics in Album : 9
By Akercocke, "I give you my hands to your work
I give you
By Akercocke, If I could catch a glimpse
Of your grand design
I'd see
By Akercocke, A moment when reason
Has gone astray
Suspended by threads
That begin to
By Akercocke, Venerate her under many names
As a pagan mystic rose
Perfect prostitute
By Akercocke, Exact, total circle
Without defect
Perennial cycle
As Solomon’s temple
Percipient plane
Panacea to proportion
Suck
By Akercocke, Nothing could save the Baptist
Not cross, not altar, nor crucifix
Old
By Akercocke, At the threshold of the dark
Whispering adoration
Like the breath of
By Akercocke, Inspiring men to envy
Murder and vanity
Nurturing conceit and pride
Hollow inside
By Akercocke, Believe in everything and nothing
My lushest of orchids
To scratch beneath