The statues are tilted In priest-like poses They're moving their arms In rhythmical dreams Possession is the medicine For the tainted blurred within Lined up on pedestals In pestilent postures Possession is the medicine For the tainted words whim Imprisoned in spine Tending lights in the tunnels Speaking in tongues Shining in spasms The invisible presence And his toxic torrents The clocks have all slowed To the sound of howling throats Acrid fumes on the horned horizon Altars stained with blood Cutting off thrones to spite the face All phantoms underground Walk with me now Possession is the medicine! Memorial wolds of fanaticism Medicate the worship within Nefarious roads of old omens The overpowering will Disturbance in the root of the self A loose thread reveals In too deep to turn back now Just a spoonful of hate Helps the medicine go down! Possession is the medicine!