Retire on this good night
foregoing all excuses. Lay
down and traverse with me
in dream over the crimson floor

Piece of us lifted above, our souls
drifting back from whence we came,
the primordial ooze, greeting the
blessed flesh.

The twelve, the female, the cursed
with us, joining in harmony singing
praises of mother earth, turned away
found ennui there.

Come to me on this good night
deliver me up to a spirit, the ying
to my yang...the sacred female lays
tired, worn and red.