Play by Raymond, Music by Theatre of Tragedy, Cello by Anders Mõreby
Filthy harlots - the Lord's grape!
With lore ornamented entreating;
Hollow hearted, heart-departed -
Yet thou reapest the blooming rose -
When 'tis the weed which is to be swath'd
I do in the blooming flower pleasure find!
And me in the yesterday's blind?!
Innocence is reserved for the meek:
Of naught is my grasp ne'er to be!
Hah! - for thee even a hound holdeth the throne.
Unwanted child of mother! - Plague of plagues!
Father of leprous children.
I wield ye to stint this brawl!
Nigh is the ford - yet harken! - do not thwart!
Desirest thou to do it withal,
I shall cause thy body by one head too short!
sayest ye nay to my boon;
Then wilt thou from bloodshed swoon!
Err me not! - Must ye bethink my foolhardiness!
Be vanished! - Be banished! -
If ye deemest me not wroth.
My hand hieth to unsheathe the sword
Lest thou tost totter -
Whid along! - Wherefore irk my haughtiness?
No man... No man at all!,
Be it lord or beggar
Bereaveth my dignity!
Wherefore bereave
The kine of the sward?
Wherefore holdest thou for
Me such quailing scowl?