A wounded soul leaps highest
I've heard the poet tell
'Tis but the ecstasy of death
And then the breath is still
As I lay, defeated, I'm dying
Longing to have you near
As I lay, defeated, I'm dying
Longing to have you here
The smitten soul that gushes
The trampled heart that springs
A wearied ghost that keeps running
From where the torment stings
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsfreak.com/e/enslavement+of+beauty/an+affinity+for+exuberance_20762252.html ]
Mirth is the prelude to anguish,
And laughter is it's final aim
Lest some fucker spot the wicked
And do not fail to exclaim!
As I lay, defeated, I'm dying
Longing to have you near
As I lay, defeated, I'm dying
Longing to have you here
Success is counted sweetest
By those who never succeed
To comprehend a fame like this
Requires sorest need

Not one of all those fuckers
Who rose the flag today
Can even tell the definition of fame
So pure, of victory