Vox Corporis


The beast to the beast is calling,
And the soul bends down to wait;
Like the stealthy lord of the jungle,
The white man calls his mate.

The beast to the beast is calling,
They rush through the twilight sweet,
But the soul is a wary hunter,
He will not let them meet.


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It ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble. It's what you know for sure that just ain't so.