Lord Gold Throneroom - HORSE the Band, Antoine

The lights are on

The tvs off

The floors are fleshy silk

But sinfully soft

Skin glides over silk

Silk glides over skin

The penthouse is alive tonight

Theres people writhing in its veins

Sunken in the masters chair

Lord golds face «a blank survey

Women pleasure men at the wave of his golden hand

And turn to receive as he waves again

The wine is fire

The whiskys full of stars

Theres a deaf mute in a bunny suit

Working the bar

The lovers fuck

They pulse and moan

Passion paying tribute

At the foot of a porcelain…

Sunken in the masters chair

Lord golds faceaE"a blank survey

Women pleasure men at the wave of a golden hand

And turn to receive as he waves again

Still his eyes are like an empty carousel

Promising pleasure but offering none!

She sees him

Watching gazing leering blankly vacant worthless golden perfect

Beyond these walls nothing exists

Here theres flesh + gold and blood in the wine

Outside theres barren emotional landscapes

Here we drink, dream + cum inside

Here theres no pain

Wash off the filth and bring her

Shower her body with julep and incense

Fill her with jewels covered in cum

Sacrificed in his alter of passions

The golden day ahas come

The lights are all off now

And the love growing louder

The pink, throbbing and filling the room

Indulging the inner, denying the outer

Shes brought before he

His empty gaze it lingers…

…he beats a cats paw- against a toy drum

His golden will be done