He is in her place
But Her chalice pours when we must drink
This New Aeon implicit in Time lights Her path just when He must go

Dead Clowns' procession walks
The flower withers to their song
Their vision kills the faith
Their cross spays the Earth
But who gives birth to the blessing?

N.O.S. is over
This time New meets the Old
Backstager soul, is Truth for everybody to know?