Magog (In Bromine Chambers)

Peter Hammill

In bromine chambers
There can be no mercy
No bitter flagellation for your sins
No forgiveness and no sackcloth
Can cease the dance
Of ashes on the wind

Too late now for a wish
To change all wishing
Too late to change, to breathe, to grow
Too late to smother out the tell-tale footprints
Which mark your passage through the greying snow

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