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letra de voltairine - frederick ingram

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life, this fiendish little thing
crying out like a baby in the night
is there nothing you could bring?
beauty, mercy, comfort, light?
voltairine …

strife, this “terrible tension” —
you know their numbness is a choice
is it far too much to mention?
will we ever find a voice?
voltairine …
voltairine, is it life itself that ails you?
voltairine, morning glory in a storm
voltairine, there’s a roaring in your head
that bleeds in words so red
to fill a bright, white room …
voltairine

wife to no one on this earth
neither “owning, nor being owned.”
always laughing at the church;
you would like to burn it down

still, a rebel so divine
you’re a hero of your time!
poison pen, penning poison—
what you write could be a crime
voltairine!

voltairine, is it life itself that ails you?
voltairine, morning glory in a storm
voltairine, there’s a roaring in your head
that bleeds in words so red
to fill a bright, white room …
voltairine

voltairine, they buried you at waldheim
voltairine, for you it’s hallowed ground
voltairine, can you feel the worm’s now turning
the revolution’s burning
oh, can you hear the sound?
voltairine …

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