In an ivory room, against an ivory wall, is crouched a shadow and I clash. In an ivory room within the ivory walls there is a crimson stain in the cracks.
If this is cleanliness, if this is clean, if this true righteousness is not obscene, then I am pure. Across a white floor upon the porcelain glow there lies an animal and it cries. Beneath the white floor, beneath the porcelain glow therein a secret lies and it's black.
Writer(s): Christopher May, David Marchand, Steven Grecco
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