Dyonisos Is Dead - Placenta

Heaven cries whether its uselessness

Because where the peasant once was dancing the halt and the lame are gathering

now

Turned away they bear their countenance — withheld satisfaction

Deep holes starring — empty shells

Dionysos is dead

But by the echo of the thunder the animal dies its heroic death

Where recently a template sat the orgy is reflected in the loss of face

You’re the downstairsstars

You’re the downstairsstars

Completely disregard

The casting out of gods

The wise are wondering — which bizarre alliance

Pantomimes of their own defeat -no magic without faith!

Glissando of the human sense chopped in equal pieces by precise obstinacy

The animal is yelling, confirming itself, mangling itself, solidary scorn

against itself