the came from the east, they brought horses to our cultivated
lands, the gave power to our have-nots. they took our culture,
they brought new customs to our burial grounds, broadened the
bases of our history. they came from the east, replaced our
despots with their caliphates, conquered but tolerated our gods.
they brought us wisdom, they brought a zero to our tired
calculations, they guarded knowledge we'd forgotten. they came
from the east. byzantium (a city of moths) crumbled into a dust
that plunged europe into the dark. constantinople (a metropolis
of candles) brought light to our books as europe forgot how to
read. let's make this stage our rubicon, let's cast a die, let's
let history decide. and as i cross it, i chase aeneas back to his
ships, i bring the rhythm back to the hips. and as rome is
consumed, as i fiddle this whisper tune on these strings,
friends, i have no need of your ears. so let's make this stage
our rubicon, our frozen rhine, our yippie picket line - and i
caesar hoffman! - and as i cross it, i bring the central asian
steppe sweeping into the wilds of europe. i make my bedroom
rome, i make this city my home, i am remus come from the dead,
come to tell you all to sack this city tonight, let's sack this
city tonight, because i always heard better in the dark. thus
immersed in barbarous longing.