Drying Mouths (In A Gasping Land)

Oh Western soul, a shrivelling fruitWould you soon lay down and dieA rising monarch, howling laments on airLifelong lord in earthly lairFed up in surplus, your profane delightBetraying needs, how far it leadsStill stretching the limit, pushing onThis tempting spirit of luring bloomThe Babylon sang in unisonThe spirit of life is the spirit of deathClearwater bowl, do bite this moldLet the promise you made warm the coldThe Babylon now sings in unisonThe spirit of death turns to lifeThe first becomes the last, while the last becomes the firstNew land in sight to put out this thirstSlow down, make it simple and singTo make our thirst meet the life springNow streaming through Your hands(The present day Babylon sang in unisonThe spirit of life is the spirit of deathClearwater bowl, do bite this moldLet the promise you made warm the cold)Streaming through Your hands