Hostile TicTacs kill bad breath.
The foul smell comes from muggle mouths who don't believe in magick.
The magick is not in the words it's just hiding from the herds.
Remember remember the fourth of July, I know what is coming and no One can hide.
What's coming is something only time travelers know.
It hides in the present up high in the snow.
The view from up here in the frost bitten peaks
cannot be enjoyed by the intellect seeks.
We know nothing but that which we see with our eyes,
final participation among swarms of black flies.
The bees find the honey, the flies find the shit,
the cold mountain dwellers suckle milk from her tit.
My Queen, my beloved, who gives me the earth,
this beautiful garden I've walked in from birth.
Your gift of destruction and death come with ease
as we look down from Cold Mountain just enjoying the breeze.
Your warm milk and honey are sweet to the taste
Wrapped tight in your womb no need to make haste.
Aquarius here now to break open your water,
to flood the low plains of your lost sons and daughters.
Up here on Cold Mountain we watch it with wonder
Up here we are lightning before we are thunder.
Today at 2:41 am by Mr. Janus
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