The crusted suns ivory medallions celebrate,
Because, you are my arabesque.
The unmoved mover;
The god of my idolatry.
The milky void of vellum,
That clings to a gentle sin.
I am singing in heaven.
Oh blessed, blessed, night.
Because, you are my arabesque.
The unmoved mover;
The god of my idolatry.
The milky void of vellum,
That clings to a gentle sin.
I am singing in heaven.
Oh blessed, blessed, night.