The Holy Drinker

Steven Wilson

The holy drinker and his curse
In constant serfage to unquenchable thirst
And from his stupor the night gives birth
The devil rises from right out of the earth

With shaking hands and blackened heart,
The glass he pours, this time it's also the last
In rapt communion with himself
The holy drinker is going straight into hell

His coffin was made from a tree
Please hammer a nail in for me
The bottle slipped right through
Plague pits now underground
Take me down... down...
Put me in chains...