Metatron Lyrics - Cold Heaven - Babylon Whores

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