converting ethereal converting. I hate this word. it shouldn't exist. all it really means is that you're accepting what you've always believed. you're not changing your thought, you're finally accepting it. like with religion, you aren't converting, you're no longer denying your true beliefs. 040404 ... Cerealshy Millions upon million of solitary and quite small feelings grains of rice would say your wrong. They have been converted and are now available for consumption. 040404 ... pete the night shines down upon the desantified graves. so many souls converted postmortem by force of the sorcery of this church or that. lives rewritten to the point that they never existed, names changed until they recongize nothing but the death that destroyed them. a light shines down from the night sky. the souls walk tonight, convert and looking for the source of their conversion. again the band rocks on and the crowd rocks forward and back again to the sound of the music unaware of the process at hand. 'all things again when you are chained to the mirror and the razor blade, today's the day all the world will see. another sunny afternoon walking to the sound of my favourite tune...' the singer goes on 'whats the story morning glory welllllll?' the night shines down on the unsantified graves. they are so sad, so alone, so cursed to have been sleeping so stilling, decomposing, becoming nothing and everying that when the converting force was levelled upon them they screamed out with rage and threw riders from their horses. the king is dead the king is dead. who killed the king? who killed the king. oh the blood. the blood. i can't wash it off my hands! what's that scream? she's dead? good bye my dear wife. the night shines down upon the unsantified graves where the souls scream and weep for a conversion they wish to have reverted. forced on them like the baby at birth going from human to bapitized one. "Peter Grant Anderson is baptized into the Holy Roman Church here at the United Church of Canada in Elgin." The night weeps and the stars begin to fall, eyes closing tears of blood fall. Sipping on the sorrows of yesterday, a new dawn a new gun a time to play, just sipping on the sorrows of yesterday with a new dawn a new gun its time to play..... Ladark will be free, but tonight the night shines down upon unsantified graves! 040404 what's it to you? who go blather from