Album by Akercocke
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